Between two Worlds
by alienated-alien
Summary: AU: "Do you know to whom you are speaking?" The blond smiled. It was an unpleasant, deprecating sneer. "Oh, I do, Your Highness. But you know what? I don't give a damn."
1. Prologue

Hey guys!

Yes, it's another story. I hope you'll like it. I had this Prologue written out for about... three days now, but it wasn't quite finished yet.

Uhm. It's not betaed, because I forgot what I send to my beta and what not. I'm stupid. I'm sorry.

Anyway, to everyone who commented anonymously on my last story... I can't answer your questions if you post anonymously, I'm sorry. So yeah. D=

Star Trek and every character [apart from those who are obviously made up by me] belong to their respective owners.

Uhm... enjoy I guess.

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Prologue:

The clock above the door ticked loudly, the sound almost deafening in the silence. Moonlight spilled into the room from the half-open window, cold air blew across the floor and swept more dust underneath the bed. Outside the locked door one could hear two voices arguing. Sam and Frank were fighting again.

Jim coughed and settled himself more firmly into the amount of pillows that he had gathered beneath the bed.

It was the only place in the entire house that made him feel remotely safe.

He folded his legs, pressing his knees against his chest as he buried his head in a pillow. They were shouting now and from the way Frank was slurring his consonants, the old man was drunk. Again. No wonder, really. Frank had never been a pleasant man, hitting Sam and Jim whenever he thought it was necessary. Over the past month however, the brute had lost his job and started to get drunk regularly. The violence had lessened, due to the constant intoxication that kept Frank bound to the couch like a fat maggot lounging on a rotting piece of meat to feast upon the decomposing matter. However, whereas the beatings had become less frequent, they had become more vicious and were mostly directed at Jim, because he never knew when to shut his fucking mouth.

Sometimes Frank kept kicking Jim's stomach until the drunk bastard passed out and left the boy to either wait for his older brother to come back home from work, or to crawl into his room as soon as he was able to move again. Other times he would just lock Jim in the walk-in closet and leave him there for hours.

Jim had tried to tell Winona what was happening at home once. She had told him that he had to stop telling lies about Frank. That he was just like his Father, George, useless and constantly chasing nonsensical dreams. He had not thought of her as 'Mother' since that day.

The arguing had stopped and Jim shifted uneasily in his hide-out.

Silence could mean a lot of things in this household. And only a few of those things were pleasant.

The door chimed, the noise echoing throughout the house like a gun-shot. He could hear the door being opened and Frank's scratchy slur greeted the person standing outside. Jim waited, narrowing his eyes as he tried to listen to what was being said.

Maybe somebody would finally get Sam and him out of this hell-hole. Or Frank's debts had finally become too high to pay and they had come to strip him of his status as a free citizen.

Jim smirked. That would be the ideal outcome. That bastard deserved nothing less.

More voices filled the air and Jim tried to curl up a little tighter. He froze when he heard multiple pairs of feet stomp up the stairs. What the hell was going on?

"Kid's in there. Prob'ly hidin' under the bed 'gain," he heard Frank say.

The door-handle was pulled down and Jim bit his lower lip when the locked door did not open. Hah.

The next second, the door was forced open and Jim could see two pairs of heavy boots approach his hiding-spot. Jim was unprepared for the meaty hands grabbing his ankle and pulling him out with a hard yank. He yelped as he found himself on his stomach, his shirt had ridden up his spine and he felt horribly exposed.

Hastily, he sat up as much as he could and turned to glare at the guy who had almost dislocated his foot. "What the hell?"

"He's pretty," the other man grabbed Jim's hair and pulled his head back to examine his face. "Tell me boy, d'ya like sex?"

"How would I know?" Jim snapped then blushed. Fuck. "W-what do you care anyway? Who are you?"

The stranger grinned with delight. "Ya hear that, Greg? We've got a virgin on our hands."

Why did he have to open his mouth? Did he really just tell a stranger that he was a virgin? He should just cut out his tongue to prevent any further nonsense from escaping him.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Frank, what did you do?" Jim pushed the hand away that was grasping his hair in a painful grip and turned his head to stare at Frank whom was standing in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"Your daddy just sold you to pay his debts."

"He's not my Dad," Jim screamed. "You can't just _sell_ me you fucking bastard! Repay your debts, but don't do it by-! _Don't touch me_!"

The man called Greg had lifted him to his feet by grabbing his upper arms roughly and Jim tried desperately to get away. The large hands had practically wrapped themselves around his biceps, gripping them with bruising strength, erasing all hope of being able to escape. Moments later they pulled him out of the room, his feet dragging across the floor as he thrashed against the man's hold.

"You can't do this to me! Fuck-" Jim went silent for a moment when his eyes locked onto his brother's slumped figure.

Sam was sitting on the couch, hand held in his hands, until Jim stumbled past him and the young man looked up with dull, green eyes.

"Let go! Fuck, let go! _Sam_!" Jim immediately shut his mouth when he realised that he had called out for his older brother like he was seven years old again and a firm believer of Sam being his fearless protector. It was pathetic, really. He was seventeen for fuck's sake. How old did he have to get until he stopped depending on his older brother?

The front door was opened and a gust of icy air hit his bare arms. His brain instantly registered what was about to occur. And thus, he was once again reduced to screeching and shouting for help. "No! Sam! Sam, help me! Don't let them do this!"

Sam did not move, he merely stared at Jim and only now Jim noticed the third stranger holding a phaser to Sam's temple. Something inside Jim broke when he realised that no one would help him. In that miniscule second that it took for him to understand this, Greg had lifted him off his feet and practically threw him into the black hover-car idling just outside the fence surrounding the house.

Jim fell onto the floor, disgust rising within him when he noticed that it was not just a fancy car but a _fucking limousine_. Greg climbed in after him, pulling the door closed.

"Better get comfortable, kid. It's gonna be a long drive."

"Fuck you," Jim hissed. "You have no right-"

"Oh, but we do. You see, Frank owes our boss a very high sum of money. Since he's your legal guardian selling you was within his rights," Greg reached out and patted Jim's cheek. "I think the boss will be very happy to have you working for him."

"You're disgusting," Jim pulled his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small as he could.

Greg laughed and leaned back.

The doors in the front opened and the other two men got into the car. Jim scrambled onto the seat to look out of the window. Sam was standing in the doorway of their home, the light illuminating his figure and throwing his face into deep shadows. The car gave a deep hum and Jim pressed his hands against the cold pane that separated him from the world.

The car started to move just as Sam seemed to make a decision. The young man began to run towards the limousine, but fell back when it picked up speed rapidly.

The last thing Jim saw was Sam falling to his knees in the middle of the muddy road, before a sharp sting to his neck graced him with artificially induced sleep.

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><p>Lalalaaa... yeah. I don't even know what the hell I'm doing.<p> 


	2. Chapter 1: Citizen Erased

Alrightey!

So. Here's the first chapter to my new story. It's weird, it's crazy and... yeah.

You are free to point out every error you find to me! :)

Yes, so, uhm, enjoy!

Edit: 01.07.2014. A Guest pointed out Jim was being sexist and since I cannot respond to them personally, I decided to just edit the word out. This story was started in 2011. I myself had to learn a lot about how the world works (yes, Tumblr, I am looking at you), so, it was in no way on purpose that Jim was being sexist. If anyone notices more of these things, please tell me.

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Jim's head was resting on something soft and smooth. The smell of freshly laundered sheets penetrated his nostrils and he sighed softly into the pillow that was obviously supporting his cranium. Finally, his eyes blinked open and he was met with unfamiliar surroundings. He sat up quickly, too quickly, causing his head to start throbbing viciously. For a moment he was confused, before he remembered what had occurred.

That bastard had sold him.

Jim clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists.

The ceiling of the room he was in was rather high and seemed to be covered with mirrors. There was a single window on the opposite wall. It was, however, so narrow, that there was no way he would be able to fit through it to escape. He shifted marginally and was shocked to find, that he had been stripped down to his boxer-shorts. Horrified, he gathered the blanket up and wrapped it tightly around himself.

The door hissed open and Jim found himself scrambling into the far corner of the bed, pressing himself against the bedpost. A tall Orion stepped through the door, letting it slide shut behind him. The stranger crossed his arms, the black shirt straining over his muscular shoulders.

"Who are you?" Jim snapped, trying to hide the fear accumulating in his chest.

"Maruv," the name sounded familiar and Jim furrowed his brows, trying to search his mental databanks for information.

It took him barely a second. "You are the owner of the _Bodacious Bacchanalia_."

"Yes, yes, I am," the Orion grinned. "An odd thing for a virgin to know."

Jim scowled. "Just because I haven't had sex yet, doesn't mean I'm a complete ignoramus of all things sexual."

"Then you surely know why you are here," Maruv grinned.

An icy feeling settles in Jim's stomach. "Not really, that bastard Frank sold me to liquidate his debts. But he was a gambler and constantly drunk. He couldn't have made his debts with you."

"Oh, yes, since he lost his money to _me_. This is not the only establishment I own, pretty boy," Maruv stepped closer until he was just beside the bed, his dark eyes ghosting over Jim's face. "Since he did not want to end up being sold as a worker in the mines of Vulcan, he offered me you. I see that I've made the right choice in accepting."

"You can't be fucking serious," Jim choked out. "I'm not going to be working for you. I won't... won't sell my _body_, just because that asshole couldn't think of a better way to repay you!"

"Oh, but you have no choice," Maruv patted his cheek. "You are rightfully mine."

Jim knocked the green hand away from his face. "I belong to no one!"

"You poor child. Who filled your head with such nonsense? Did you really think there is something like freedom for you Humans in this galaxy? Even those who are not slaves are bound to the Vulcan kingdom. Even me. Now be a good boy and let me look at you," Maruv crawled onto the bed and Jim curled himself up tightly, hoping that it would be enough to save himself from the Orion's wandering hands.

Maruv crossed his legs, tilting his head to the side to look at him pensively. "Do you really believe I will not force you to show yourself to me?"

"I was hoping you won't," Jim muttered, but still refused to move. "I'm not going to be one of your whores."

Maruv snickered and reached out, prying the blanket out of Jim's grasp effortlessly and grasping his wrists to pull him forward. Jim thrashed against the bruising hold. "Hold still, you insolent brat!"

"Fuck, no!" Jim yelled out. Was the guy insane? Why would he hold still?!

The Orion growled, letting go of one of Jim's wrists only to backhand him across the face. Jim's eyes pricked with tears from the force that the slap was delivered with, his cheek stung and his lip was split, bleeding sluggishly.

"Now look what you made me do," Maruv shook his head. "Now be a nice little Human and let me look at you properly, after all, we have high standards here."

Jim scoffed, flinching when Maruv pushed him flat onto his back. He instinctively tried to curl himself up, to shield his vital organs, but the Orion quickly straddled his legs and kept him pinned to the mattress. Rough fingers grabbed his shoulders, prodded his ribs and brushed across his jutting hipbones. A hot hand grasped his chin and turned his head forcefully from side to side.

"Hm... a little scrawny...," another sharp stab to his concave stomach. "But your skin's really nice. Not too many blemishes and the... what do you call those –_freckles?_- aren't that visible, they could even be considered cute. Now let's..."

Jim squeaked as he was suddenly turned onto his stomach and once more straddled. Maruv traced his spine, scooted lower and lower until he was sitting on Jim's calves. Jim tried to push himself up, but only managed to earn himself an approving chuckle from the Orion whom was now kneading his ass. "Very nice. You're a runner, huh?"

Jim flopped back onto the mattress, burying his face in the sheets, closing his eyes against the tears of frustration and anger. "_Fuck you_."

"Aw," Maruv patted the left cheek of his ass and Jim felt even more humiliated. "You Humans are so cute when you're angry. Nothing but weak flesh and bone wrapped in delicate skin. Truly, you are _made_ for bedding. You are such an easily subdued species and_ even easier_ tomanipulate."

Maruv shoved his hand under the hem of Jim's shorts, digging his nails into the soft flesh beneath. Jim felt his shoulders start to shake with the effort of holding a scream inside. A scream or a sob.

Maruv got off of him in a swift move. "You are going to bring me a lot of money. Maybe I'll even sell you to one of those rich bastards that work for those stuck-up, pointy-eared pricks. We've got enough of them coming here for a fuck because their wives and husbands aren't enough anymore."

The door opened and shut again. Jim waited another minute, before he curled up and started to cry.

Frank had sold him to a fucking brothel. Sure, it was one of those expensive, tasteful establishments, but it was still a whorehouse. He felt like dirt. This was not how he imagined how he would escape Frank. Not at all. He wanted to throw up; his empty stomach was rolling with nausea. Jim slithered off the bed, crawling across the floor towards the only other door in the room, hoping that there was a bathroom on the other side. The door had to be opened manually and Jim strained to reach the handle while kneeling. When it finally opened he scrambled across the black tiles to reach the toilet, where he instantly started to heave. The scent of watery acid and bile permeated the bathroom.

When he finally finished he sagged against the porcelain-bowl, sniffling and shivering pitifully. He was so immersed in his own misery that he did not notice that somebody had stepped into the room, until they entered the bath.

"Oh, you poor baby," a voice said above him and Jim's head shot up to look at the intruder.

An Orion woman, curvy and red-haired, was gazing down at him with pale-blue eyes filled with sympathy. Jim scooted away from her, swallowing thickly and scowling darkly. "What do you want?"

She placed the tray of food she had been holding onto the floor, then knelt down slowly, as if not to spook him by making any abrupt movements. As if he was an injured animal that had fled into a corner and was now trapped.

Somehow, the analogy was eerily fitting.

Jim let her come closer and brush away the stray lock of hair willingly, as the sweet smell of Orion pheromones clouded his brain. It was not much, only enough to make him pliant to her ministrations. She gently scraped her nails over his scalp, pulling him closer by the arm and letting his face rest against her bosom. He was too tired to fight her anyway.

Still, it was a very awkward situation to be in. His nose was practically right between her boobs.

At least he was not shivering anymore.

"Poor, poor little baby," she cooed. "Don't worry; I'll take care of you."

Jim was not stupid. In Orion society, it was actually the men who were kept as slaves by the women. For some reason however, they decided to trick the entire galaxy into believing it was the other way around. Either the Orion meant to keep him as her personal little pet, or she was actually concerned for him. Somehow, it was hard for him to believe that the latter was true.

The Orion pushed him away from herself a tiny bit, enough to look him in the eye. "My, my. You are a pretty little thing, aren't you? Look at those lips and those eyes... no wonder Maruv was so excited when he came out of your room. You're his new pearl."

Jim was once again overcome by the hopelessness of his situation and he started to sob pathetically, pushing the Orion away roughly. "I don't want to be his fucking _pearl!_ Just leave me alone!"

He sounded like a whiny thirteen-year-old, but frankly, he did not give a flying fuck at the moment. He had just been degraded to a nameless whore and he was light-years from home. What was missing now to make this horrible mess complete, was a perverted old guy slapping some money into his palm and fucking him into the mattress.

The Orion gave a gentle whine and kissed his nose. "Baby, it's okay, let me help you, alright? We should get you out of this bathroom and into bed. Then you'll eat something and tell me what happened. Deal?"

Jim hiccupped through another sob. "I d-don't even know who you are. Why should I trust you? For a-all I know, you're just here to m-make me your slave."

"My name's Gaila," she said, smiling brightly. "And don't worry; you're totally not my type. I just want to help you, honestly."

Well, she certainly _sounded_ sincere.

She helped him to his feet and Jim was a little miffed to find that he was only an inch taller than her. Gaila led him out to get him settled on the large bed, before bouncing away to get the tray she had left in the bathroom. Jim wiped his slightly snotty nose with the back of his hand and watched her put the tray onto his lap. She then proceeded to climb onto the bed beside him.

"Well, Baby, tell me how you ended up here," she smiled encouragingly.

So Jim did. From the moment when he got dragged away from his room, to the point where he woke up here, only to get molested by a crazy Orion.

Gaila had listened quietly, apart from the overly dramatic gasps and _oh_'s thrown in. Finally, Jim fell silent, picking at the squishy vegetable lasagne on the plate in front of him. A warm, green hand covered his and he looked up to see Gaila smile a tiny, strange smile. "You will be fine. I promise you. It may seem like it's the end of the world now, but it's going to be alright."

"I don't want to be 'fine' or 'alright', Gaila. I just want to get out of here. I want to go home," Jim rubbed a weary hand over his face. "Why are you here?"

"Me? Oh, I ended up here, because I couldn't pay my debts. Better than working in a mine or having to play servant for some Vulcan asshole," she shrugged, grinning brightly. "You should eat, Baby."

"My name is not 'Baby'. It's Jim."

"Of course, Baby."

Jim huffed. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?" she was clearly enjoying their childish bantering.

Jim growled and shoved a piece of lasagne into his mouth. It tasted wonderful and he only now noticed how hungry he

was. Gaila watched him eat curiously. When Jim finished, he placed the tray onto the floor beside the bed and looked at Gaila. "Can you help me escape?"

She blinked then sagged forward a little in a clear display of defeat. "No, Baby, I'm sorry. The place is guarded too well. You'd be back in here before you even took your first breath of fresh air."

Jim groaned and curled up on his side, pulling the blanket over his head. "Fuck."

"I'm so sorry, Baby..."

"'s not your fault, Gaila," Jim mumbled. "Is there another reason why you came here? Apart from bringing me food?"

"Oh! Yes. I'm supposed to get you to the medical bay to get checked out."

"I think Maruv did enough of checking me out."

Gaila sucked in a sharp breath. "He didn't force you into having sex, right? _Oh, that basta_-"

"No!" Jim called out, sitting. "No, he didn't. He just... touched me."

Gaila seemed to calm down instantly. "Alright. If he had done that, I would have personally ripped him a new one. And I don't mean in the verbal sense."

Jim shuddered violently. Somehow, he was absolutely certain that she would be able to pull that stunt off, if she truly wanted to. Gaila was scary.

"Why do I have to see a doctor?" Jim asked tentatively, fearing the answer.

Gaila prodded the bruises still littering his legs and ribcage. "That's why. Maruv knows what a bastard you've been living with. Also, you need a vaccination, some of our customers don't want to have sex with a condom and even if they get tested, you never know. Maruv may be a jerk, but deep down, he's a good guy. _Very _deep down."

"You sure he just doesn't want damaged goods to please his customers?" Jim murmured.

Gaila frowned. "Don't be silly. He's mean, but not cruel. Now come on, let's get you to see Doctor L'lorry."

Jim stood and instantly sat down again, when he remembered that he was only wearing boxer-shorts. "I can't."

Gaila blinked then rolled her eyes. "Take the blanket with you. While you're with the Doc I'll go and find some clothes for you."

Jim wrapped the blanket around himself, hunching his shoulders as he followed Gaila out of the room and into the long corridor outside. It was quiet, there was no one in sight and Jim heaved a sigh of relief. He did not want anyone to see him like this. Gaila was more than enough.

The medical bay was a white, hall-like room, filled with all sorts of beeping and clinking machines. Three bio-beds stood against the right wall and there was a door at the very back, probably leading to the Doctor's office. Gaila tilted her hip to the side, arms akimbo, before opening her mouth. "_L'lorry_! Get your ass outta here!"

The door opened and a blonde, tired-looking woman scrambled out, glaring accusingly at Gaila. "There's no need to yell! You have absolutely no manners, Gaila!"

Gaila grinned, her white teeth a sharp contrast against the deep emerald of her skin. "I brought the newbie."

L'lorry directed her gaze at Jim, blinking in surprise. "_You're_ Jim? Geez, you're so young... well, get settled on the bio-bed over there. I'll be with you in a second, young man."

Jim nodded meekly and trudged towards the nearest bed to climb onto it.

"I'll be back later, Baby! Be nice to Doctor L'lorry!" Gaila waved him goodbye and vanished out the door.

Why would he not be nice? What was he going to do anyway? Kick her in the knee?

L'lorry turned out to be a very discrete person. She asked him to put the blanket away, only touching him when after he gave her permission to do so and kept speaking while she assessed his injuries, talking him through what she was doing. Jim felt his tense shoulders relax. He was glad that the doctor turned out to be woman. He did not know if he could have handled a man touching him after what had occurred before.

"You poor child...," she mumbled, more to herself than to Jim, as she ran a tricorder down his torso, shaking her head. "You're black and blue all over."

"I'm used to it," Jim said, shrugging.

"You shouldn't be. No child should be used to being beaten," L'lorry said softly and brushed a motherly hand through his hair.

Jim found himself repressing shudder. "I'm not a child anymore."

She smiled, shaking her head. "Of course you aren't. Alright, I've treated the worst bruises and the other should fade in time. I'm going to give you your vaccination now and then you're good to go."

Jim nodded and let her press a hypo against his neck.

Gaila burst into the medical bay at the same moment, holding a pair of jeans and a shirt up triumphantly. "I found your old clothes, Baby!"

Jim flushed a bright red. "Thanks, Gaila."

He snatched them from her as soon as she was close enough and hastily dressed. Finally dressed, he felt much better and less like a vulnerable child. Gaila assessed him critically. "Well, you got some serious legs going on there, Baby, very nice."

"And you didn't notice that while he was practically naked?" L'lorry inquired innocently.

Gaila giggled. "I was busy trying to get him to calm down. Also, those blue puppy-eyes are really distracting!"

Jim felt his mouth quirk up into a smile without his consent. Gaila gasped in delight, pointing at his face with an obnoxious gesture. "He smiled! How adorable!"

He felt like a goddamn monkey in a zoo. Gaila was probably the oddest, most easily excited person he ever had the questionable honour of meeting. Jim shook his head, grabbed his blanket and bundled it up to carry it more easily, before he made his way towards the door. "I'm going back to my room. It was nice to meet you, Doctor L'lorry."

"Likewise, Jim. Take care."

Jim nodded and stepped out of the medical bay, closely followed by Gaila, whom grabbed his free hand, dragging him back to his room. Jim let her, glad to have someone to talk to in a place that was entirely unknown to him. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Jim walked towards the narrow window to look outside. There was a garden, well kept and the amounts of pillows beside the water-fountain told him, that serving the customers was not only restricted to the inside of the Bodacious Bacchanalia. The walls surrounding the garden were high and every ten seconds, there was a blue sizzle rushing from one corner of the wall to the next. _A force-field_? Damn it.

He would have to hack into the main system to get out of here. But how would he do that, if this room did not even sport a fucking replicator?

He sank down onto the floor, pulling his knees up against his chest. He was stuck.

Gaila sat down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Hey. Don't give up yet, alright?"

Jim glanced at her questioningly.

"My Mother always said, 'there's always a way'. Of course, in a completely different context, but you get my idea," she nudged his nose with hers. "If you really don't want to be here, I'm sure there will be a way out for you. I can feel it in my little toe. And I swear, my little toe has _never_ been wrong before."

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><p>Still don't know what the eff I'm doing, but meh.<p> 


	3. Chapter 2: Pretender

Hey guys! Sorry for not answering your reviews/posting anything!

I got swept up in university-stuff, I had my first exams, blablablaaaah...

Haha, so, I'm back and I present to you... Chapter two! [Did that rhyme? Fuck, did that just... dammit.]

Uhm, so... I hope you'll like it! It's unbetaed, you're free to point out my errors!

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds <strong>

Chapter 2: Pretender

The palace was quiet. Sunlight streamed in through the large, tall windows. The soft notes of a lyre rang out crisply in the spacious room. Spock plucked the strings thoughtlessly, letting the music wash over him as he stared out of the window. His left eye twitched mildly when he hit a wrong note and he placed the instrument away with a suppressed sigh.

The chronometer on the opposite wall read 3.56 pm.

Spock stood from the bed and walked towards the glass-door to the balcony. A soft breeze caused the thin fabric of the curtain to flutter. Spock brushed it to the side and stepped outside, eyes raking across the large garden opening up underneath him.

The hiss of the door behind him alerted him to Leonard's presence. "I see you are back."

"Yeah, sorry it took so long; Joanna's been a little clingy today," Leonard leaned his elbows onto the balustrade beside Spock. "Did anythin' happen while I was gone?"

"No," Spock said then furrowed his brows. "My Father has once again requested to talk to me about completing my bond with T'Pring in the near future."

"Damn," Leonard sighed. "Of all the pretty girls you had to get stuck with a stuck-up bitch."

"Leonard."

"Well, it's true!" Leonard huffed and ran a hand through his brown hair, tousling it further. "You Vulcans are a crazy bunch of space-elves."

"I am not an elf, Leonard."

"You're right. You're a hobgoblin and a green-blooded one at that."

"It is truly fascinating to know that you have no qualms of calling the one who gave you shelter depreciating names. Is it something humans do, or is this one of your personal 'quirks'?"

"Shut up, you know I'm grateful for that. Ya don't have to be a dick about it."

Leonard had come to live in the palace after his wife had left him. She had taken everything they had, leaving him with a six month old child to be with a stranger whose name he never came to know. Destitute and hopeless, Leonard had tried to find a way to survive in a world where money meant everything. Finally, Spock had found the man in a small alley, pressed against the dirty wall tiredly as he tried to shush his crying daughter. Upon noticing Spock, he had become defensive and Spock was confronted with words he never intended to hear again. After promising him that he would not extradite him, Leonard had reluctantly agreed to follow Spock.

There had been a short argument about Spock not telling Leonard that he was the '_fucking prince!_' but it was quickly resolved, when Spock offered Leonard work and a place to sleep.

His Father had not been pleased at first, but Mother was rather adamant on keeping Leonard with them.

4.5 years later, Leonard was still living in the palace, working as the servants' doctor.

"How is Joanna?" Spock asked, tilting his head to look at Leonard.

The older man shrugged. "She's fine. Unwilling to take her nap, like always, but I've put a movie on for her."

"That is fortunate," Spock said quietly and inclined his head.

"She's got ya wrapped 'round her little finger, that's what," Leonard tilted his head to the side and gazed down into the garden. "Did yer Mom get a new bunch of _dbalillies_?"

"Yes."

"She's gonna drive yer Dad crazy one day,"

Spock shook his head mildly. "They do not possess any intoxicating qualities, Leonard. They only smell like chocolate."

"I know that," Leonard snorted and straightened up. "You wanna go outside? I need some fresh air."

Spock nodded once and followed his friend out of the room. The palace seemed almost deserted, even most of the guards had retreated to somewhere else. Leonard raised an inquiring eyebrow, Spock answered by lifting a shoulder and letting it drop back in a poor imitation of a shrug.

"Do you believe we could take Joanna with us?" Spock asked innocently.

"If she's still awake, sure, why not?"

Joanna was sitting on her bed in Leonard's quarters, her eyes trained on the screen on the wall, where she watched an old, animated movie. Spock tilted his head to the side when the little girl started to giggle, her curly, dark hair bouncing with every rude snort that escaped her throat. She was raptly watching a small lion prancing around vividly coloured plants. Spock lifted an eyebrow when the animal started to sing. He would never understand Joanna's fascination with those illogical movies created by a man called Walt Disney.

"Jo-Jo?" Leonard's voice had softened and Spock marvelled once more at the tender expression that always overtook the Doctor's usual scowl whenever the young girl was present.

Joanna turned around, a bright smile lightening up her round face. "Daddy! Spock!"

She scrambled off the bed, almost falling in her eagerness to reach her Father. Leonard laughed softly and scooped her up into his arms, settling her on his hip. "Why won't you sleep, darlin'?"

"'m not sleepy, Daddy," Joanna pouted, furrowing her brows marginally and crossing her arms. "You don't have to sleep, why do I have to? 's not fair!"

Leonard sighed. "Because you're still growing, Jo-Jo, if ya don't sleep enough, ya won't grow. Do ya want that?"

"Yes! I wanna stay small forever, like Peter Pan!" she giggled and pressed a clumsy kiss to Leonard's nose, before she turned her attention to Spock. "You didn't come to see me yesterday, 'm mad at you!"

"I was not able to, Joanna. I apologise," Spock said solemnly, pressing his forefinger against her cheek in an innocent gesture of affection.

"Why?" she asked petulantly, grabbing his finger and holding it tightly in her small hand.

It was a gesture that reminded Spock of when she was still an infant. He thought of the first time she had reached her stubby arms up to signal that she wanted to be held, her toothless smile and the tiny, clumsy fingers wrapping around his own. She had been so trusting, even thought she did not know him, even though she was unfamiliar with his face, his voice and the way he smelled. But somehow she had known that he meant her no harm, somehow she had, even though she lacked any kind of telepathy, managed to read his intentions and concluded that he was worthy of her trust.

Spock's eyes softened. "My Father and I had to discuss my future wife."

Joanna gasped. "Did you tell him you're going to marry me?"

Leonard snorted and bit his lip. Spock felt his lips quirk up. "No, Joanna. I did not."

"But why?" she whined, tugging on his hand.

"Jo-Jo, Spock needs to marry a princess," Leonard said quietly, kissing Joanna's hair.

Joanna's pout became a little more pronounced and her lower lip started to wobble. "B-but... I wanna be a princess, too..."

Leonard threw Spock a helpless glance, before grasping Joanna's chin with one hand. "Jo-Jo, Spock's too old for ya. I mean, look at him! By the time you're a beautiful Princess, he's going to be old and ugly!"

Joanna blinked, a tear spilling down her stunned face. She looked at Spock, her hazel eyes wide as she studied his face intently. "Oh..."

Spock lifted an eyebrow at Leonard. Joanna gave a soft huff and shook her head. "I still wanna be Spock's princess!"

Spock saw Leonard rolling his eyes. "Darlin' have you ever thought about what Spock wants?"

Joanna fell quiet immediately. Spock watched her face darken as she drew her brows together, clearly thinking about what had been said. Finally, she stuck her thumb into her mouth and buried her face in Leonard's shoulder, sucking idly on the digit vanishing behind her tiny lips. Leonard pulled her hand away in a practised gesture. "Don't do that, Jo-Jo, you're a big girl. Big girls don't suck their thumbs."

A small sigh fell from her mouth and she lifted her gaze to look at Spock, suddenly seeming shy and subdued. "You don't wanna be my prince, Spock?"

"I would be honoured to your prince, Joanna. However, I believe you want to spend your life with someone you are... in love with."

Joanna scrunched up her nose. "But you aren't in love with T'Pring!"

Spock averted his gaze. It was true. He felt nothing for the woman he was supposed to marry. The one time he truly had contact with her had been 13.7 years ago on the day, their link had been created. Their connection had never been a strong one, but Lady T'Pau had voiced the assumption, that it was due to Spock's mixed heritage. The Elder was one of the few that were aware of the fact, that Queen T'Pala's true identity was that of Amanda Grayson, a human, whom had once been a servant in the palace. Father introduced Mother to the public by telling the press that she was from the Southern Hemisphere and of royal blood. Spock had never been told the exact story of what had occurred back then, but it had been an intricate enough plan to convince the entire Vulcan kingdom.

"No," Spock finally said. "No, I am not."

The small girl seemed stricken by this, her eyes filling with tears. "But you can't marry her if you don't love her!"

Leonard shook his head, casting a quick, unreadable glance at Spock, before sitting down on the bed's edge to soothe his distraught daughter. Spock shifted marginally only barely keeping himself from fidgeting. That was certainly not how he imagined this visit to proceed.

"Jo-Jo... it's okay, come on, baby. Spock's not sad about marrying T'Pring-"

"No! Spock's supposed to marry his One True Love! That's how the story goes!"

"Darlin', life's not a fairy tale," Leonard whispered, kissing her wet cheeks. "Not everyone gets a 'happily ever after'."

"B-but... but... I want Spock to have a 'happily ever after'...," Joanna was crying by now, large tears dripping down her reddened cheeks as she wiped her runny nose into the sleeve of her shirt.

Spock felt his heart clench painfully and he stepped closer to the bed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to dab the tears and nasal mucus from Joanna's face. "It is alright, Joanna. I appreciate your concern for me, but it is unnecessary."

Joanna sniffled, nodding softly. Spock brushed a wayward lock of hair out of her puffy face. Joanna yawned, not even trying to suppress it. Leonard chuckled softly. "Ya tired, darlin'?"

A tiny, high-pitched sound answered him and Joanna nuzzled her face into her Father's shirt. "Yeah..."

Leonard mouthed a relieved 'finally' in Spock's direction. Spock observed Leonard as he tucked his daughter in, watched him kiss her forehead and pat her curly hair, before standing up and requesting the blinds to close. They left the room quietly, letting the door shut behind them.

Leonard smirked. "Well, looks like we gotta get some fresh air without Princess Jo-Jo."

"Indeed," Spock said. "It was not my intention to upset her, Leonard."

"I know, it's alright. She's too good a person, that's all. She wants everyone to be happy," Leonard sighed. "She's four. She doesn't know that the universe doesn't work like in her fairy tales and I loathe the day when she truly understands what a messed up world we're livin' in."

Spock inclined his head. He was perfectly aware of Leonard's wish to preserve Joanna's innocence as long as he was able to. Leonard tried hard to keep the harsh reality from contaminating his daughter's mind, which was not very difficult, considering that they lived in a palace, surrounded by isolating walls and protected by loyal guards.

Spock and Leonard descended the broad staircase, turning left to reach the double doors leading to the terrace. The sun had warmed the stone tiles, the _indukah_ trees swayed heavily in the afternoon breeze, their crimson leaves glowing in the sunlight. The Orion shrub roses bloomed almost obscenely bright, their heavy, golden blossoms hanging towards the grassy ground. A lonely _xirahnah_ sat underneath a _waneti_ bush, its silvery feathers glinting with every movement. The _xirahnah_ was long believed to be extinct until King Skon, Spock's late grandfather, had discovered a small colony of them near the _Osana_ caverns. He brought them back to the palace to help their dwindling population to grow again.

Since then, the _xirahnah_ were once again featured in the various encyclopaedias of the universe and were no longer considered a mere legend.

Mother was very fond of them, even if she repeatedly stated that their distinctive cries were 'ghostly'. Spock was not entirely sure what she meant by this, but he agreed that the sorrowful tone of their wailing added an unnerving note to the bird's call. Joanna called them the 'ghost birds' and when Spock inquired as to why, she had shrugged and told him, that on Earth, it is said that sometimes the souls of the dead came back to haunt the living. Of course, she had not phrased it like that. Spock had spent hours of research to reach the conclusion that Humans were a very strange species and had a very morbid kind of imagination.

"So, when are ya going to complete the bond with T'Pring?" Leonard asked as he seated himself on one of the chairs standing at the edge of the terrace.

"My Father wanted the ceremony to be held in three weeks, but I was able to convince him to give both T'Pring and myself more time to prepare for the bonding," Spock answered.

The lonely _xirahnah_ spread its wings and took flight.

Leonard nodded slowly. "It sucks that you're linked to such a bigoted brat. If I were to bond with her, I'd probably kill myself to keep that from happening."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "It is a necessity. You are aware of this, Leonard."

"Oh, yes," Leonard nodded enthusiastically. "That awkward conversation about The Time will forever be branded into my brain. Seriously, I've seen Orions that were less green than ya by the time ya finished your little speech."

The tips of Spock's ears heated and he was sure that they had turned green. "I do not appreciate your amusement. It is a very serious matter."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get yer panties in a bunch," Leonard chuckled. "It was refreshing that, for once, _you_ were the one being embarrassed. It's usually the other way around."

Spock straightened a little. "I was not embarrassed; merely uncomfortable with the situation at hand."

"Sure, Spock, whatever makes ya sleep at night."

Spock was close to indulge in the very Human urge to roll one's eyes in exasperation, but suppressed the impulse immediately. Leonard sighed and slumped a little further into the chair. "Are you tired, Leonard?"

"Nah, 'm fine," Leonard mumbled, yawning into his elbow.

Spock turned his gaze towards the sky for a moment. "You are clearly exhausted, Leonard."

"Yeah, sorry. I've been awake since three in the mornin' because Hikaru's wound got infected again. Damn _le-matya_ bite."

"Were you able to save his leg?"

"Yeah, no big deal, he's going to be fine in a week. Some moron just forgot to disinfect their hands before placing the healing-pad onto the wound and it rekindled the remnants of the poison that overgrown cat injected. When I find out who that grubby urchin was, I'm gonna stitch their hands to their ass, I swear."

Spock found himself mildly concerned for the unfortunate person whom had dared to make a mistake in Leonard's medical bay.

Leonard yawned widely once more, eyes half-lidded. "Hey, Spock."

"Yes, Leonard?"

The older man shifted to get more comfortable. "Do ya think you're going to be able to scrap that damn regulation about enslaving 'lesser species' one day? I mean... you're aware that you'd have the Romulan Empire and the Klingons against ya, right? Yer father knew that, that's why he didn't try to change the law. But... at least he's trying to make life easier for the less lucky slaves out there."

"I am aware, yes," Spock sat down on the chair standing only 4.5 feet away from Leonard's seat. "But I cannot accept that we are enslaving other species purely due to the fact that they are not wealthy, physically weaker or simply do not share our opinions. It is wrong and I refuse to understand the logic behind it, for there is no logic. It astounds me that an entire race build upon logic fails to understand the wrongness of their thinking; that they refused to reconsider their attitude towards slavery. It is because of their stoic confidence in laws that have been written hundreds of years ago, that Joanna and you are unable to leave the palace without-"

Leonard placed a warm hand onto his forearm and only now Spock noticed that he clenched his hands into fists. "Heh, calm down, Spock, you're getting emotional there, you've forgotten to calculate how long ago exactly those laws have been written. I really appreciate that you're so... passionate about yer believes, really, but it's no reason to put yerself in the line of fire. Ya may have conquered the galaxy, but you're surrounded by sharks. One wrong move and they're gonna shred ya to bits. I don't want ya to cause a war just because ya wanted to give Jo-Jo and me a chance to walk around freely on Vulcan. You've made our life better already, immensely so. Now take a deep breath and relax. Ya can plan yer grand revolution later."

Spock deflated slightly, his tense muscles relaxing as he sunk further into the cushioned chair. "I apologise for my outburst."

"'s alright," Leonard smirked and closed his eyes, withdrawing his hand from Spock's arm. "You're gonna be a good king one day, Spock."

"Thank you, Leonard."

The doctor nodded sleepily, before his head rolled to the side and his entire body lost its tension. Spock watched the slow rise and fall of his friend's chest for 2.4 minutes, before turning his gaze back towards the vegetation stretching itself out before him.

He would change the law. He could not keep pretending to be a follower of this disgusting practice. He did not know how his Father was able to witness all this without even trying to appeal to the other Houses and urging them to see reason. Nor did he understand how his Mother was able to perceive the suffering of her own people while staying so composed.

He would abolish slavery once and for all, and if he truly had to start a revolution so be it.

Spock closed his eyes and turned his face towards the sun.

The high-pitched chirping of _laras_ echoed across the garden and Spock opened his eyes to watch a flock of the bright blue birds fly over him, just outside the doming glass that protected them from the heat of Vulcan's unforgiving sun. Leonard had started to snore softly, the sound strangely soothing and Spock felt the edges of his mouth twitch upwards.

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><p>Do you have ANY idea how hard it was to write this chapter? I don't even care if I fucked Spock up. *goes off to cuddle with Jo-Jo*<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: Unnatural Selection

Urgh. I'm so sorry, I wanted to post this thing sooner, but, yeah, life's been a little bitch.

So, uhm, I hope the chapter isn't too bad, it's unbetaed and the first time I read through it I was like:"What the fuck, when did I write that?"

So... yeah.

Kim: I have no idea what happened, seriously, none of the fics seemed to display the last chapter, it was weird. Maybe fucked up, I dunno. =) Yeah, the chapter was a little stilted, but it's really hard for me to get Spock right, especially his thought-process. I'm glad you still liked it!

Talltree-san: Aww... *gives you a little crown* It's okay, everyone wants to be Spock's princess. =)

Alrightey. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds <strong>

Chapter 3: Unnatural Selection

Twelve days had gone by since Jim woke up in the Bodacious Bacchanalia. Maruv had intended to sell Jim's virginity to the highest bidder, but Jim had managed to scare the man off in less than two minutes. Five costumers, ten escape attempts and a left hook to Maruv's face later, Jim found himself chained to the bedpost by his ankle, the chain barely long enough to use the toilet comfortably.

He wondered when Maruv would give up and send him off to work at the mines.

Jim sighed gustily and curled his legs against his chest.

The door swished open and Gaila rushed into the room, jumping onto the bed, causing the frame to rock roughly against the wall. Her brows were furrowed and her bra peeked out from the low neckline of her shirt, the pink lace contrasting sharply with her emerald skin. "Baby, what did you do to make Maruv so angry?"

Jim huffed. "Nothing, I just refused to let a stranger stick his dick into my ass. Six times."

"Jimmy...," Gaila sighed heavily. "How...?"

He shrugged. "I yelled a little, kicked them, bit them... you know, the usual."

Seriously, the only thing that kept these men from simply flipping him onto his stomach due to frustration, sexual or otherwise, was the fact that Maruv did not tolerate forced intercourse. Ever.

It was one of the few things he actually liked about that Orion jerk.

Gaila buried her face in her hands. "Jim, I know you're having trouble accepting your situation, but you're Maruv's property now. This is your job - _your life _- now. You could at least attempt to make it easier for you."

"I will never accept this. I am not a whore," Gaila flinched at his rather thoughtless choice of words, but he decided to ignore it. "My body is my own and I refuse to let anyone use me as a hole to fuck into. Seriously, Gaila, is this how you want to spend your life? Locked in a birdcage until you're too wrinkly to be of any use to Maruv and he kicks you out to work at the mines?"

Gaila raised her head, glaring at Jim. "I'm only staying here until I've paid back my-"

"Gaila, _think_! The day you come out of this place, where will you go? Where will you work? You can't even buy tickets for a shuttle to Orion! Are you seriously hoping for a goddamn miracle? You'll just end up back here!"

Gaila clenched her hands into tight fists, before sagging forward and let her head drop against Jim's knees. "You're right. But I can't help myself, Jim. This _hoping_ is what's keeping me sane. And by the Gods, I certainly _hope_ you haven't given up yet."

For a minute it was completely silent within the confines of the darkened room. A tiny smirk curled itself into the corners of Jim's mouth. Gaila's face lit up with her blinding smile, before she cuffed him lightly in the shoulder. Jim laughed and shoved her away gently. "You're such a sap, Gaila."

"Right back at you, Mister _I-want-to-preserve-my-virginity-until-I-find-the-One_," she quips, before her face darkens marginally. "There will be an inspection soon."

"What, you mean, like, somebody actually cares what's going on in here?"

Gaila rolled her eyes. "Yes, dummy."

"So? We get inspected by some Vulcan dude send by the King, big deal."

"Jimmy, this is the Bodacious Bacchanalia, one of the biggest slave-housing establishments near Shi'kahr. The King himself comes to check up on it once in a month for the sake of avoiding bad press. You're really all kinds of oblivious, huh?"

Jim's head reeled. "A-are you fucking serious?"

"No, I'm trying to give you a heart attack so I can have the kinky chain keeping you tied to the bed," she tapped his nose with a smile but she sobered up instantly. "I'm very serious, Baby. At least try to behave, I don't want him to send you to work in the mines. That'd be horrible, because I've really come to like you and I'd miss your cute freckled nose."

Jim huffed. "Wow, thanks."

Gaila's imploring stare was unnerving and he turned away. _The King._ He was screwed. That Vulcan bastard would definitely send him to the mines without even thinking twice about it. And once you ended up there...

Jim shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself.

"When is he going to arrive?"

Gaila bit her lip. "In about twenty minutes, I think."

Fuck. "Gaila, help me get that shackle off. I'm going to try getting out of here again. Maybe I'll manage to get past the guards-"

"Jimmy, no! Just try to behave, you have gotten into enough trouble already-"

"It doesn't matter if I behave now, you know that! The King will send me to the mines anyway, when he finds out that I'm entirely useless as a prostitute, since I won't let anyone near me. I'm not going to just sit here and wait for the inevitable. So, either help me, or leave," he did not mean to sound so harsh, but

Gaila hesitated then reached up to pull a hairpin out of the knot of red curls at the back of her head. Her slender fingers gripped his calf and with a swift yank, she pulled it into her lap, causing Jim to fall onto his back. He blinked at the ceiling, hearing the tiny pin scrape around the inside of the lock. Finally, a low click was heard and Jim felt the snug metal ring slip open before it slid off his ankle. Jim exhaled heavily and sat up again. He tugged the hem of his tight shirt down and scowled at his the leather pants he had been forced into wearing. Definitely not clothes made for impromptu break-outs, but they would have to do. It was not like he had anything else.

"Jim... where will you go? If you get out, where will you go?"

"I'll worry about when I'm out of here," Jim slipped off the bed and was halted by Gaila's hand on his arm. "What?"

Her pale blue eyes twinkled. "Let me come with you."

For a moment he was stunned then a slow grin spread across his face.

The halls were mostly silent. The dim, blue light illuminating the innards of the Bodacious Bacchanalia was being reflected by the dark marble floor. Jim and Gaila made their way towards the front door slowly and trying very hard not to seem suspicious.

The front hall was occupied by a very enthusiastic pair having sex right beside the small fountain standing in the centre of the large room. A pair of pants was draped picturesquely over the curvy statue in the middle of the basin of water and a black bra almost hit Jim in the head when it was ripped from the costumer's chest by Cheel, an Andorian female he had come to meet through Gaila. At least, he thought Cheel was female. It was a little hard to guess with her, but she certainly _sounded_ like a woman.

Jim felt his cheeks flush when he caught a glimpse of Cheel's blue bosom and the slender, pale hand of the costumer that was squeezing the left breast.

Blushing madly, he looked away. How shameless can a person be, having sex in the front hall in with some random guard watching? For a moment, he wondered what would happen if the King came in now.

"Virgin," Gaila whispered into his ear, giggling breathily. "Come on, the guard looks a little occupied at the moment, we can sneak out."

Jim glanced at the guard standing beside the door. If the flushed face and the tent in his pants were any indication, then yes, he did look a little occupied. The man had taken off the standard filter-mask, designed to keep errant pheromones and the like from entering the body through the airway, leaving his agape mouth visible. Jim smirked. This was going to be way too easy.

Gaila took Jim by the hand and sauntered towards the door. The guard blinked and snapped his head towards them, eyes narrowed. Gaila flicked a wayward strand of hair out of her face and Jim held his breath when her pheromones started to taint the air around them. "Hey, sugar, we're just gonna take a little walk outside, yeah?"

Gaila's voice had dropped into a sultry whisper and, was it just Jim's oxygen-deprived brain, or had Gaila's shirt not been a little less exposing before?

The guard nodded jerkily and Gaila winked at the poor man, whom reached over to type in the code to open the door. They slid outside and Jim took a gasping breath of fresh air. "_Fuck._ You're genius, Gaila. Why didn't I think of that?"

He had never made it outside before. The guards had always managed to get him before he even reached the front door. Not that he would have been fast enough to figure out the code in time to escape them anyway, he was a genius, but his hands were, unfortunately, slower than his brain.

"Because you're a moron, that's why," she grinned.

Jim stared towards the gate. "I will need to hack into the system that locks the door and deactivate the force-field. We can't get out otherwise."

Gaila nodded. "Alright."

"Good, we'll have to keep the guards at the gate occupied too, can you do that?"

The Orion almost looked offended. "Of course, wasn't that moron in there not enough prove?"

Jim chuckled.

They practically ran towards the gates, their feet slapping against the still warm stone-tiles. The guards immediately zeroed in on them, stepping forward. Jim watched as Gaila's open expression changed into a heavy-lidded smoulder, her painted lips swollen into an obscene pout. Jim took a step backwards, his head reeling from the small amount of Orion pheromone that drifted his way. The human guard instantly started to stumble, before sitting down on his behind in a drunken daze. The other, an Orion, stood his ground a while longer, before he sunk to his knees and started to kiss Gaila's feet.

Jim lifted an eyebrow and Gaila rolled her eyes. "Just get going, you dork, I can't keep them docile forever."

Hastily, he moved towards the hidden panel beside the gate, his fingers working on the input screen. The thing was trickier than he thought and kept locking him out whenever he managed to get a little closer to the system's core. A rush of adrenaline made his legs tremble but his hands stayed eerily steady. Behind him he could hear Gaila cooing at the guards, grimacing when he heard them mewl for attention like newborn kittens. Disturbing did not even come close to describe what was going in back there.

Finally, the mechanism before him emitted a small, confirming beep and the force-field flickered out with a hiss.

"Yes!" Jim exclaimed.

"You did it?" Jim turned his head to look at Gaila, whom was holding up the human guard by gripping his waist. "Can I stop drugging them now?"

"Yeah, I just gotta open the gate now," he brought his gaze back onto the panel, fingers flitting over the buttons.

A low click echoed through the silence.

The next second there was a steady beeping coming from the sensor above the wall-panel and the screen turned red, blinking threateningly.

Jim bit his lip. Fuck. "Oops."

"Jimmy?" Gaila sounded hesitant. "You... fucked up, didn't you?"

"Yep."

"Fuck."

A second later, they were running from five guards which had come bursting out of the Bodacious Bacchanalia's front door. Gaila was laughing hysterically and Jim had the distinct impression that she would be crying if she had been a little less crazy.

Jim hoped that they would be able to climb out of the garden by using the vines that crept up the wall at the very back of the garden, but one glance at the top of said wall made his stomach coil into a knot. The force-field was back online. They were definitely screwed and it was his fault Gaila would get punished too. He should have never dragged her into this mess.

A large hand wrapped around his shoulder, yanking him back and against a broad chest. Instantly, he started to struggle, cursing in every language he was capable of. Gaila was already calling the guards by every degrading word she knew, her voice shrill and still tinted with laughter. Sometimes Jim wondered if her Mother had dropped her on her head one time too often.

They were led back into the front hall. Cheel and her costumer were standing near the fountain, fortunately clothes this time, staring at them with wide eyes. Maruv stood beside them, arms crossed, foot tapping against the tiles. His face was drawn and his eyes shone with unsuppressed anger. "Again, Jim? And this time you managed to convince Gaila of your silly idea of freedom? Are you so desperate to get out of here that you have no qualms about using other people to reach your goal?"

"He didn't use me. It was my own decision to follow him," Gaila said haughtily, trying to get away from the guard, huffing when the man only gripped her elbow tighter. "Call your dogs back, Maruv, we're not going anywhere."

"Exactly," Maruv growled. "The King will be here in five minutes and you'll be in your room, Gaila. Jim, you will stay here and, by the Gods, I hope he's going to pay me for having to put up with you and then send you to the mines. I've watched you try to ruin my business long enough."

Jim gritted his teeth, frustration and helpless anger caused his body to tremble.

Maruv tapped Cheel's shoulder; she stood and gently led the woman she had been pleasuring minutes ago away. Gaila was dragged towards the staircase, while she kicked and screamed like somebody was twisting a knife into her ribs. Somehow, she managed to wriggle her way out of the man's grasp by kicking him in the shin and shimmying her hips from side to side like a snake. Gaila sprinted towards Jim, eyes bright with determination. Jim wondered what the hell she was doing, but when she slowed and came to stand beside him, he understood. "Gaila..."

"No. You're my friend. If you're going to be sent away, I'm coming with you. Partners in crime," she grinned and there was not an ounce of uncertainty visible in her eyes.

Jim laughed softly. "You're insane, Gaila. Is your little toe telling you to do this?"

"Maybe," she winked, linking their arms together and finally faced Maruv.

The Orion looked downright furious. "Very well, have it your way, I don't-"

The door behind them opened and Maruv straightened up instantly. Jim felt the guard behind him tense and release his arm.

"Your Majesty," Maruv said, bowing his head respectfully.

Gaila tugged at Jim, urging him to turn around alongside her.

King Sarek stood in the doorway, head held high, his regal robes dark crimson and draping heavily over his tall frame. Another Vulcan stood beside him, dressed in black and carrying a weapon Jim had never seen before.

"Maruv," the King's low voice echoed through the hall, his eyes resting on Jim and Gaila. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Attempted escape," Maruv said gruffly. "The blond kid over there is Jim, I told you about him. This time he almost managed to get out with Gaila's help."

The King inclined his head, eyes straying towards Gaila. "I knew you were a very temperamental individual, but I had assumed you would not take such risks,Miss Vrao."

"Yeah, well, Jimmy's pretty convincing, Your Majesty" she shrugged and Jim was slightly taken aback by how casual she behaved in the face of the _King_.

King Sarek lifted an eyebrow. "I see."

Jim bit his lower lip and clenched his hands into fists.

"Maruv, may I speak to you in your office?" Maruv nodded hastily at the King's request and Jim watched in confusion as they left the room, trailed by the King's guard.

Gaila nudged Jim's ribs. "What the fuck is going on?"

"How should I know?" Jim whispered back and sat down on the edge of the fountain's water basin. "What do you think they're talking about?"

"Well, usually, the King looks through Maruv's documents, inspects the medical bay, asks a few of us if we're satisfied with the working-conditions... you know."

Jim blinked. He found it odd that the King would care about what was going on in a brothel. Especially since the Vulcan was happily married. Well, as happily as a Vulcan could be. It did not make sense. No one gave a damn about how a slave was treated, once a person is sold, they are considered property. It was entirely the owner's decision how to treat their slaves. Apart from the law that a slave was to not to be abused, they had absolutely no rights.

Gaila leaned her head against Jim's shoulder. "It's going to be alright, Jimmy."

"I kind of doubt that. I'm gonna be sent to the mines for sure and you're lucky if you're only getting punished by Maruv for disobeying," he ran a weary hand through his hair. "Face it, Gaila. Your little toe was wrong this time."

Instead of answering immediately, she wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his temple. "We'll see about that."

Jim was unsure of how long they were just sitting there, waiting for their verdict.

Finally, the King returned, a chastised looking Maruv trudging along behind the Vulcan. King Sarek came to stand in front of Jim and Gaila, his black eyes boring into Jim. "James Kirk."

"Y-yes?" Jim cursed himself for stuttering.

"You will be coming with me. You are clearly not willing to work here and it would be illogical to let you stay, if you are unwilling to compensate for the shelter and food Maruv is providing you with. I have paid him generously to meet the costs you have caused."

Jim felt his blood grow cold. "Of course, Your Majesty. May I ask where you are sending me?"

The King lifted an eyebrow. "As I have said, you will be coming with me. You will be working in the palace. I have read through your personal documents. You are very intelligent. It would be unwise to let your mind wither by sending you to the mines."

_The fuck...?_ Jim stared. "Wait, you want me to work at the palace?"

"Indeed."

He knew he was gaping at the King, of all people, but fuck, he had a damn good reason to do so. Still, it was a little unbecoming and he quickly tried to compose himself. "W-what about Gaila?"

"Miss Vrao is free to decide whether or not she wants to come with us," the King's unwavering gaze landed on Gaila. "I will, of course, compensate Maruv's losses if you decide to accompany James. And I believe you wish to stay with James...?"

"Hell, yeah," Gaila grinned and looked at Jim. "See? I told you. My little toe is _never_ wrong."

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><p>Anyone else thinking;"Wtf just happened?"<p>

Because I certainly am thinking that.


	5. Chapter 4: Not One Of Us

Hey, guys! Sorry, I'm taking awfully long for the chapters. *headdesk*

Uni's been swallowing my freetime. Stupid university.

Uhm, yeah.

Oci: First. I hide under my bed, too, if things get to much for me, I feel save under my bed. So, thanks for practically calling me and everyone else who does it a loser. Second. When did I write that Jim does it all the time...? He wasn't timid all the time in the first chapter, far from it. Third. My best friend has an emotionally abusive mother. She's timid at home and rebellious when outside with friends. But alright. Your opinion, I'm not judging you. Just please, if you want to critique my work, do it in a way that helps me to better myself, instead of pointing all the things out you didn't like without giving me some intelligent ideas on how to change them. On the other hand... maybe you had a concussion recently and weren't aware of what you were writing. Maybe it even caused some very serious amnesia. I wouldn't know. =)

Kim: You're probably right about Sarek not knowing...poor Sarek.

bee: Everytime I read your name, I have to think of Sherlock Holmes and Sussex... Uhm. Thanks for the review! =)

Talltree-san: I think I accidentally invented a new religion, with Gaila's little toe as deity. D= I'm glad you like my story!

Alrightey! Have fun! [it's unbetaed, so, keep the errors, I don't want them anyway.]

* * *

><p><strong> Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 4: Not One Of Us

Three days after the tearful conversation with Joanna, Spock had left the palace to spend seven days at the temples of Gol to strengthen his mental shields at the request of his Father. The reason for said request, however, he had yet to hear. Upon returning to the palace, he immediately walked into the large sitting-room, freezing in the doorway at the sight that presented itself to him.

Joanna was seated at the small table near the glass wall, a piece of written-on paper lying on the surface in front of her. On a chair beside the little girl sat a young, blond man, slightly bend forward as he spelled _las'hark_, the Vulcan word for sun, out to her. His gentle tenor softened the edges of the harsh language and Spock found himself intrigued by the stranger.

A well known presence behind Spock made him straighten his spine. "Father."

He had spoken the word quietly, unwilling to disturb the tranquil scene in front of him.

"Spock," Father took a step forward to stand beside Spock. "I assume you are well?"

"I am," Spock glanced at his Father. "Who is this?"

"His name is James Kirk. His legal guardian sold him to the establishment called Bodacious Bacchanalia to repay his debts, but Mr. Kirk vehemently refused to work for Maruv. I decided to visit Maruv to assess the situation and was able to witness the aftermath of James' sixth escape attempt. I decided to see if he could be of use here instead of sending him to work in the mines. I found him to be highly intelligent and when I spoke to him, I noticed certain similarities between his way of perceiving certain things and your own. He speaks several languages perfectly, including Vulcan, Orion and Andorian. James will attend to Joanna's lingual education and will be your personal assistant, if you are in need of one."

Spock blinked once, twice. "I... see."

"And I believe you should stay away from the kitchen for a while, our new cook is a rather... territorial person."

"New cook?"

"Gaila Vrao. She was helping Mr. Kirk escape and, upon confronting her with the choice between staying at the establishment and working at the palace, she adamantly insisted on coming with Mr. Kirk."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "I see."

"I will leave you now, your Mother and I must attend an important meeting."

Spock watched his Father turn and leave the room, before he slowly made his way towards the table. His eyes registered the slight tensing of James' legs, the way they shifted as if he was readying himself to bolt. Taken aback by this reaction, Spock stopped in the middle of his venture, his gaze fixed on the blond. The Human did not react, instead he touched Joanna's wrist carefully, his voice quiet as he addressed the small child. "Alright, Jo, that's enough for today."

"Okay, Mr. Jam," Joanna slipped off her chair and, to Spock's surprise, reached for James' hand to press her lips to his knuckles in a clumsy kiss, before she skipped out of the glass door to the garden.

James seemed mildly confused and severely flustered by Joanna's display of affection. His bewilderment did not last too long however and James attention focused itself onto Spock. "Is there something you needed?"

"No," Spock answered. "You are James Kirk."

"Yeah," James turned in his seat and finally looked up. "So?"

Spock was caught by the intense stare of cerulean eyes, the blue so bright that it seemed to glow. An illogical thought, but he was unable to describe them any other way. For a moment, he was unable to form a coherent sentence and he was certain that, if he had been entirely human, he would have been gaping.

"Hello? Earth to rude, pointy-eared bastard?"

Spock blinked, eyebrows sitting high on his forehead. "Do you know to whom you are speaking?"

The blond smiled. It was an unpleasant, deprecating sneer. "Oh, I do, Your Highness. But you know what? I don't give a damn."

Disbelieve and a hint of anger rose within Spock, but he suppressed it quickly, studying the younger man's unique eyes carefully. They betrayed nothing at first, seeming cold and detached, but there was a barely there hint of rebellion alongside a deep-seated insecurity that manifested itself through the slightly hunched shoulders and fidgety feet. It was a confounding combination.

"What have I done to deserve your resentment?"

James huffed. "You didn't really ask me that just now, did you?"

"I believe I did, Mr. Kirk."

The blond stood, slowly and deliberately, spine straight as the Human tried to make himself seem taller than he was. Spock tilted his head slightly at the almost infantile behaviour and found with amusement that James' barely reached his chin when upright. A slender, tanned finger drilled itself threateningly into Spock's sternum. "Listen, I'm grateful that your Father got Gaila and me out of that whorehouse. But that doesn't mean I have to like you."

Spock blinked slowly then folded his hands behind his back. "It is not required that you... 'like' me. I merely request that you proceed to attend to Joanna's education with the utmost care and, if I ask you to do so, will assist me in my studies."

"Yeah, about that... why would you need my help? I'm just a Human," James took a step back, his forefinger finally falling away from Spock's chest.

"My lingual capacities are rather... limited. That is why I need your help."

"Wait, wait, you're the Prince. Should you speak more languages then English and Vulcan?"

"I do. But Klingon and Romulan are not helpful when one wants to translate an Andorian text," Spock watched James' face carefully, analyzing every small twitch. "Was that explanation enough for you, Mr. Kirk?"

"It's Jim. Not Mr. Kirk. Jim," the young man crossed his arms before his chest and turned away from Spock. "Is there anything else you wanted?"

"No."

"Good, then I'm going to go to the kitchen. Gaila promised to make me something to eat after I finished learning with Jo. Good day, Your Majesty," Jim pushed past Spock, vanishing out of the room without glancing back once.

Spock was left confused and taken aback by the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Joanna's quiet snort alerted him of her presence. The tiny girl stood just outside the open glass door, her face brightened by a smile that was missing two front teeth, while her eyes twinkled mischievously. Her fingers were wrapped around the stem of a single _dballily_ and her hair was covered with pollen and tiny _waneti _blossoms. Grass stains and dirt had added new colours to her dress. "Mr. Jam is really funny."

"Indeed?" Spock knelt down to pluck the flowers out of Joanna's hair. "Is that why you are calling him by the name of a fruit preserve?"

"Huh?"

"Is that the reason why you call him 'Mr. Jam'?"

"Oh! Yes. Yesterday, the green Lady from the kitchen brought us some bread with Kray-jam on it and he got all of the jam on his nose! It was so funny, because he didn't even notice at first!" Joanna pushed the _dballily_ into Spock's hand, suddenly looking shy. "Can you give that to Mr. Jam?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "May I inquire as to why I should do so?"

Joanna blushed. "Because I think he's pretty..."

"Then... should it not be you who gives Mr. Kirk the flower?"

"No! I can't do that!" Joanna's cheeks became even darker with blood and she leaned forward a tiny bit.

If Spock had been any less Vulcan he would have laughed at the horrified look she was giving him. "I do not think that Mr. Kirk will appreciate my presence right now."

"Why?"

"He is not... fond of Vulcans, I believe."

Joanna gasped. "Then you have to make him like you! Give him the pretty flower, he'll like you then, I'm sure! Everyone likes it when they get flowers!"

Spock stared at the tiny girl, once again overwhelmed by Joanna's naive faith. It astounded him that she believed that a simple gesture would make Jim act amiably towards Spock. Even more astounding was the way the fairy tales Leonard read to her every night had filled her small heart with faith and caused her to see good in everyone. How she could look past the outer appearance effortlessly and win everyone over by simply smiling.

Following an affection driven impulse, Spock placed a soft, Human kiss to Joanna's pollen-covered hair. "Thank you, Joanna. I shall give the flower to Jim."

Joanna smiled and rushed out into the garden again. Spock allowed himself a soft sigh, stood and walked out of the room towards the kitchen.

Jim was sitting on one of the counters, a Kray-fruit in his hand while he nibbled on one of the spikes. He was listening attentively to a young Orion woman, whom seemed to talk without stopping even once to inhale. Spock cleared his throat pointedly.

The Orion and Jim turned their heads almost simultaneously to face him and, while Jim's face darkened, the woman's was taken over a broad smile. "Why, hello!"

"Good afternoon," Spock inclined his head slightly. "I believe you are Miss Vrao?"

"It's Gaila, sweetie. I take it you're Prince Spock? Gee, you're even more handsome than on television!"

Spock tried not to let the strange woman notice his confusion. "Thank you."

"Gaila, stop flirting with the Crown Prince, are you trying to get yourself in trouble?" Jim grumbled, taking another bite from the fruit he was clutching. "What do you want, Your Highness?"

Spock held out the slightly damaged _dballily_. "Joanna told me to give you this. She thinks you are... 'pretty'. Yes, I believe that is the word she used."

Within 2.3 seconds, Jim's face had turned bright red, his mouth had opened soundlessly and he was blinking rapidly as he stared at the flower. 33.4 seconds passed before the younger man finally moved again. "And... uh... why couldn't she give it to me herself...?"

"I am uncertain. I believe she was being... 'shy'."

Gaila started to giggle.

"Ah," Jim reached for the flower, his tanned fingers brushing against Spock's minutely, a small tingle raced up Spock's arm at the contact, before they wrapped around the thin stem and pulling it from Spock's grasp. Curious. "Uhm... thanks, I guess."

He nodded curtly. Jim lifted the _dballily_ to his face, inhaling the scent cautiously. "Chocolate...?"

"It is a _dballily_. It is a very rare flower that my Mother has grown to be very fond of and she has been cultivating it in the garden for numerous years now," Spock explained. "Its scent does resemble that of chocolate but I would advise you not to eat the petals. While they are not poisonous, they possess a very unpleasant taste."

A slow grin grew on Jim's lips. "Why, Your Highness, am I right in assuming that you have firsthand experience in this matter?"

Spock felt the tips of his ears heating up. "I was 5.3 years old at the time, Mr. Kirk."

"I told you to call me Jim," the younger man slipped from the kitchen-counter and started to scowl, when Gaila started to laugh hysterically. "What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry! It's just... when he came in and gave you the flower...," Gaila snorted. "Your face-!"

"You're really slow sometimes, huh?" Jim mumbled and looked at Spock in clear exasperation. "Please tell me you have something you need me to do."

It took Spock 3.4 seconds to decide how to answer Jim's question. "Yes. I am currently trying to translate an old, Andorian text. I would be most gratified if you were willing to aid me."

Jim sighed and nodded. "Yeah, alright. Lead the way, Your Majesty."

Spock inclined his head towards Gaila and strode from the room. Jim followed him obediently, humming quietly to himself. It was a familiar tune and Spock found himself trying to identify where he had heard it before. Finally, he realised that it was an old song called 'Hey, Jude' by a band named _The Beatles_. His mother had sometimes sung it to him when he was unable to sleep.

The way to Spock's chambers was a silent one, apart from Jim's consistent humming of course, and when they finally reached their destination, Jim had started to actually sing softly. Spock decided not to comment on it and unlocked his door. "We have arrived."

"Oh, yeah," Jim shot him a lopsided grin, stepped past Spock and gasped. "_Damn_."

The blond darted towards the large book-shelf and Spock was sure that the Human's hands were shaking slightly as he trailed those tanned fingers across the ancient works of paper. Spock watched quietly as Jim explored the rows of books, blue eyes wide and almost hungry. The door slid closed behind Spock, the usually so quiet hiss loud in the silence and Jim spun back to face him, clearly startled. For a moment, they stood frozen before Jim cleared his throat nervously. "Uh... yeah. Sorry about that, I just... love books."

"Indeed," Spock sat down at on his bed. "We are in possession of a library. However, you are free to take any of my personal books if you wish to do so."

Jim blinked then nodded slowly. "Thank you."

The younger man crossed the room and gingerly sat down on the edge of Spock's bed, grabbing one of the tattered, Andorian books. "Alright, so, what exactly are we translating?"

"An old text depicting the history of Andoria. I am of the opinion that it is a King's duty to know as much as they can about other peoples. I have also noticed that there is a considerable lack of understanding between the various cultures that have been forced to live together. There are barely any books being translated into other languages and I want to dissolve this issue as well as I can."

"Geez, aren't we noble," Jim muttered and opened the book carefully. "Do we start at the beginning, or...?"

"I have translated it roughly, but I lack the fluency to truly understand certain phrases. That is why I need your help."

Jim nodded and reached for Spock's PADD. His eyes skimmed over the surface and with a soft hum he leaned forward, forefinger resting against a line. "Okay, see this? This is a plural, there's a vowel at the end, that's why there's an 'h' before the ending."

"Ah, I see."

"And here we have past tense, not present..."

Spock did not know how he could have not noticed that 7.6 hours had gone by since Jim and he had started to translate the ancient texts. What alerted Spock to the time was not his own mind, but Jim's growling stomach. Spock was startled at the sound and stared at the younger man's abdomen, before he lifted his eyes to look at Jim. "I apologise, Jim, I should have remembered that you might become hungry."

Jim waved it off. "It's fine. Listen, let's finish for today, I'm really tired and you too, probably. Okay... maybe not. But I need to eat and get some sleep. Good night, Your Highness."

"Good night, Jim."

Jim saluted sloppily and left the room. Spock waited for 5.7 seconds before he started to clean the PADDs and books off his bed to place them on his desk. Upon tucking the last book into place he noticed that he had not visited Leonard today. His left eye twitched and he exhaled deeply. Leonard would not be pleased. To be honest, he was surprised that the Doctor had not simply burst into his room hours ago, demanding to know why Spock had not alerted him that he was back at the palace.

4.9 minutes later, Leonard barged into Spock's chambers, scowling. "Where the hell have ya been?"

"In my room, Leonard," Spock answered gently. "I have been working on my translation."

Leonard huffed and plopped down on Spock's bed. "I saw that Kirk kid walk come down here. He's been with ya?"

"Yes, he has been helping me. He is very intelligent."

"I know, he's my daughter's teacher, Spock," the older man smirked. "He's got a foul mouth, though."

Spock nodded. "Not in front of Joanna, I hope?"

"Nah. He fell in love with my little Princess the moment she took her thumb out of her mouth and smiled at him. That kid treats Jo-Jo like a princess, I mean, even more than we do," Leonard ran a hand through his hair. "The good thing is, he distracts her from that little crush she has on you. "

"She picked a dballily for Jim today. However, she was too shy to give it to him herself and told me to deliver her gift," Spock waited patiently for Leonard to stop laughing, becoming slightly worried when the man's face started to take on a rather unpleasant shade of red and his laugh began to resemble the choking breaths of a dying man.

"I do not understand your amusement, Leonard," Spock finally declared when Leonard had calmed down.

"I'm sorry, it's just... picturing you giving someone a flower...,"Leonard snorted. "It's just too damn funny."

"It was Joanna's gift, not mine."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get yer panties in a bunch, Spock. So... I hope Jim's been a little nicer to you than he has been to Caator. The poor guy only wanted to help him find the way to the garden and Jim practically told him to shove it. Yeah, sure, Caator is a Vulcan, you don't feel, _blablah_... but seriously, Joanna felt so bad for him, she drew him a picture and I swear to you, he almost smiled. Caator, Mr. _I'm-even-more-serious-than-the-Kin_g."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Jim seems to be a rather ambivalent character."

"You can say that out loud," Leonard smirked.

"When I first met Jim he seemed very adamant on showing me that he would rather be eaten by a pride of le-matya than accept my presence-" Leonard chuckled. "- but he has been very amiable once we started translating the Andorian text. His lingual abilities and political knowledge are astonishing."

"I dunno, didn't have much time to get to know him. Jo-Jo's been hogging the kid's attention since he got here," Leonard shrugged nonchalantly, before a slow smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "I hope you're not crushing on our blue-eyed teacher, Jo-Jo would be very upset with ya."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, his ears flushing green. "Do not be ridiculous, Leonard."

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><p>I apologise for the little rant at the top. I did not mean to be too mean. I just needed to get that out. Reviews are for critique and not for criticizing.<p>

At least, I thought so. *headdesk* Maybe I should put the line:"Don't like, don't read." at the top of my chapters...


	6. Chapter 5: Hammer To Fall

Hey guys!

Here's the next chapter, it's... yeah. I dunno what to think of it. It's weird.

Talltree-san: Haaha, yeah, that'd be a funny picture =)

Kim: Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad I have a professional opinion now. =)

Adrianna: awww, thank you!

This thing is, once again, unbetaed, every error you find belongs to you. I don't want it.

Alrightey, guys. Have fun!

* * *

><p><strong>Between two Worlds <strong>

Chapter 5: Hammer To Fall

"No, Jo, say it with me. _Svai_."

"Sway."

"_Svai_."

"Ss...vai."

"Yes, again," Jim smiled at the little girl, watching as she scrunched up her entire face to pronounce the word correctly.

"_Svai_."

"Very good, Jo," he patted her head.

"I don't like that word, 'flower' sounds much better," Joanna mumbled, crossing her thin arms in front of her chest, a pout pushing at her bottom lip. "I don't wanna learn anymore."

Jim sighed sadly. "But Jo, if we don't learn, Gaila won't make us any cookies. And I really want to have some cookies. Don't you want to have cookies?"

Joanna gasped and her eyes became wide. "I do! I do want to have cookies!"

Jim smiled and nodded. Soon, they were immersed in studying again, their voices filling the empty living-room. The sun was shining through the glass wall and Prince Spock's pet sehlat was lunging on the terrace outside, its tired grunts and snuffles audible through the open door.

An hour later, it was clear that Joanna was at her limit when she started to chew on her ring finger. Jim gently pulled her hand from her mouth, wiping the spit from the tiny digit with a tissue. "Alright, Jo, I think that's enough for today. You did very good, I'm proud of you, you learn very fast."

Jo smiled brightly. "Thank you, Mr. Jam!"

Jim hoped that she would stop calling him that sooner or later. Gaila's constant mocking of the nickname was getting a little annoying.

Joanna slid from her chair and scrambled out into the garden. Jim watched worriedly as the little girl knelt down in front of the giant sehlat, her tiny hand reaching out to pet the large head. The sehlat sighed, leaning into the touch and finally releasing a loud, rumbling purr. Joanna giggled in delight and wrapped her thin arms around the predator's neck. What was that beast called again? I-Chew?

"Hey, kiddo," Jim blinked, turning his head to look at whoever had spoken.

Joanna's father, a certain Doctor Leonard McCoy, stood behind him, arms crossed and head tilted to the side. He had never truly spoken to the man before, only greeting him when he brought Joanna in the morning and saying 'goodbye' when he picked her up again after their learn-sessions. "I'm not a kid, my name's Jim."

The man ignored him and sat down on Joanna's vacated chair. "I heard you've been giving everyone remotely Vulcan here a hard time?"

Jim frowned. "So? I don't know how you can be friends with any of them, especially the Prince, he's a stuck-up prick. Being friends is probably considered illogical on this sauna planet anyway, so why bother. Besides, those damn space-elves are the main reason why I'm stuck here."

"So, essentially, ya hate all Vulcans because...?"

"Because they think they are superior to every other species out there. Isn't it illogical to think that you are the summit of creation? They did the same thing every dictator on Earth did all those years ago. They declared us to be inferior simply because we're not hell-bent on being walking computers. You can't tell me you haven't been thinking about this," Jim pushed the papers Joanna hand written on into a neat stack and set them aside. "How did you end up here anyway?"

Leonard shrugged. "My ex decided I wasn't good enough anymore, apparently some random guy was a lot more interesting. So she just... fled the planet with him, taking everything with her and leaving me with nothing but my bones... and Joanna of course. Joanna was only an infant back then. I had to raise her on my own and got barely an hour of sleep a day. I finally got fired, because I fell asleep at the job. Jo-Jo and I ended up on the street. When Spock found us, Jo-Jo and I had been without shelter for a few months already and my little girl was sick. Spock took us in and well... as you can see, we're still here and actually glad about it."

Jim stared at the older man. "Oh."

Leonard grinned. "So, why are you here?"

"Frank, my stepfather, decided to sell me to Maruv, the owner of the Bodacious Bacchanalia, to pay his debts," Jim answered to his own surprise, but then again, the Doctor had told him about his life. It was only fair of Jim to share his own miserable story. "I refused to prostitute myself and... well, the sixth time I tried to break out was the day the King came to check up on the establishment. For some reason he decided to bring me here instead of sending me to the mines."

"Damn, kiddo," Leonard sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Somehow, this palace seems to draw in life's outcasts."

Jim groaned. "Don't call me kiddo."

"Or what?" Leonard smirked. "You're a kid, I mean, look at ya."

"Fine. Then I'm gonna call you 'Bones'."

Leonard, Bones, blinked slowly and, for a moment, he looked like he wanted to ask a question, but then only sighed and shook his head. "Case. Point."

Jim laughed. Bones was an odd character. With constantly furrowed brows and a neat Southern drawl, the latter being a pleasant alternative to the monotone, Vulcan murmur Jim had been listening to for the past days.

Outside, he could hear Joanna talking to the sehlat. _I-Chaya_. That is what that thing was called. Bones had started to scowl mildly and finally stood to walk out into the garden. Jim watched him kneel down beside his daughter and whisper something in her ear, causing the little girl to smile. The Doctor grinned back at her then patted the sehlat's head, before scooping Jo up into his arms and carrying her back into the living-room. Jim was shocked when Bones dropped the little girl on his lap without warning. "What-?"

"Watch out for her, that sehlat can be a little rough when playing."

"But, you're here now, why don't you-?"

"I actually have some work to do. I would take her with me, but she gets easily bored when she has to wait in my office, especially when I get stuck with a double-shift. But since we have you now, that won't be a problem anymore," Bones bent down and kissed Joanna's forehead, ruffling her head gently as he straightened up again. "Promise me to behave, Jo-Jo, yeah?"

"Yes, Papa," she chirped and leaned back against Jim's chest. "Bye, bye!"

"See ya later, darlin' and Jim... if she has _one_ scratch on her, I'm gonna hypo you into the next week," Jim was shocked into silence and was unable to respond until Bones was already out of the living-room.

"Jo, your Dad is scary."

Joanna snorted. "I know! He said he has to be, because Princesses need to be pro... porrote... uhm..."

"Protected?"

"Yes!"

"Ah, of course, that makes sense," Jim nodded sagely. "A Princess also needs a Prince, right?"

Joanna blushed. "Yes. I wanted Spock to be my Prince, but I'm not really a Princess… and he has to marry a Princess."

Jim felt his face go slack. "Spock? Why would you want to be Spock's Princess?"

"He's… hand… handsome," she tugged at hair to get him to lean down so she could whisper the next words into his ear. "Papa said men are not 'pretty'. But you are pretty."

Jim did not know if he should feel flattered since his masculine pride seemdto have taken a nose-dived into a cupcake with rainbow-sprinkles on top. However, Joanna's bright, hazel eyes prevented him from feeling even slightly insulted in his masculinity and he smiled down at the girl. "Thanks, Jo. You are very pretty yourself."

Jo ducked her head and buried her face in Jim's shirt, mumbling so quietly against the fabric that Jim was unable to understand what she was saying.

"What? Jo, I can't hear you, what did you say?"

She took an overly deep breath and hastily answered. "Can you be my Prince?"

Jim suppressed an undignified snort. "I'm not a Prince, but I can be your loyal Knight, Lady Joanna."

Her squeal of joy was short and painful to Jim's ears. She slung her thin arms around Jim's neck and pressed a clumsy kiss to his nose, squishing it painfully. "Thank you, Mr. Jam!"

"You're welcome, Jo. But won't Prince Spock be sad now?"

Joanna gasped softly and covered her mouth with both hands, gazing up at Jim with wide eyes. "Oh no! We have to tell him, I don't wanna make him sad!"

Jim was less than thrilled when he thought about roaming across the palace in search for the Prince. But Lady Joanna's mind was set and he had to comply, lest he wanted to get hypoed to death by the Doctor. With a heavy sigh Jim stood, cradling Joanna to his side, propping her up on his hip, before he walked out of the room. While he silently cursed his fate, Joanna was poking his cheeks with one of her tiny forefingers, counting quietly, but she never got past ten, before she had to start anew. For a moment, Jim wanted to ask what she was doing, when he realised, that she was counting the freckles on his face.

"Lady Jo, I do not think you will be able to count my freckles."

"I know," she sighed dramatically. "I can't count that good and you have a lot of dots on your face."

Jim chuckled. "Yeah, I do. Say, Lady Jo, do you know where the Prince might be?"

"Training," Joanna said proudly. "He's beating up Stonn!"

Jim furrowed his brows. "Aren't Vulcans supposed to be pacifists when they're not at war?"

"What does pastifi mean?"

"Pacifist, Jo. It means you don't like to fight."

"Oh. Spock is a Prince, he has to fight, how would he keep his Princess safe, silly?" Jo shook her head, looking at Jim as if he was a complete idiot.

"Alright, I understand, Lady Jo. Where exactly does the Prince train?"

"I can show you!" Joanna wriggled in his grip and Jim hastily set her down onto her feet.

Jo gripped two of his fingers tightly in her small hand and dragged him through the sunlit corridors. The palace was much bigger than Jim had thought. He had a feeling that he would have gotten lost already, had Joanna not been equipped with some kind of natural navigation system. They must have been running through the halls for at least half an hour, before Joanna let go of his hand and pointed at the large, wooden door in front of her. "There!"

Jim nodded and pulled one side of the double door open manually. A large hall was exposed to him, the tall windows illuminating the wide, round space covered in mats and the two Vulcans sparing upon them. It was like an obscure dance, a constant gliding of feet, two big cats circling each other, waiting and poised to attack. Spock twisted away when the other Vulcan, who was probably Stonn, lunged forward, before the Prince reached out and grabbed the other male's shoulder. With a rough, put precise push, Stonn was thrown onto the mat and Spock crouched down beside him, thumb pressed against the dip of Stonn's spine. "Do you yield, Stonn?"

Spock asked his question quietly, the low baritone sending a shudder up Jim's spine.

Stonn gave a single, jerky nod and Spock stood with a fluid motion. The downed Vulcan got to his feet, less elegantly than Spock, Jim noticed, and walked out of the second door on the right, without another word. Joanna ran towards the mats, arms spread wide. Jim watched in astonishment as Spock instantly knelt down to accept the exuberant hug from the little girl. When Jo let go again, Spock stood and let Joanna wrap her hand around his pinkie, following her back to Jim. Jim felt his face heat up and tried desperately not to stare at the toned chest of the Vulcan when they came to stand in front of him.

"Greetings, Jim," the Prince said evenly.

"Hey," Jim mumbled.

"Joanna has told me that you have decided to become her... knight," Spock lifted an eyebrow, glancing down at the giggling bundle of sunshine.

"Yep," Jim smirked. "I hope that is not a problem, Your Highness?"

"Certainly not," the Prince said smoothly. "Why would it be?"

Jim was distracted by the green tint of his lips and the way the black hair was mussed by exertion and sweat.

_Wait_. Vulcans did not perspire. At least, Jim was sure he had read that they did not. Their cooling system worked differently than that of Humans. Jim's eyes narrowed in confusion, but he quickly discarded the thought of asking the Prince. Why did he even care? Maybe Vulcans did sweat and the galaxy was just unaware of it, because it happened so seldom. Who knew?

His eyes trailed down the pale neck, ghosting over muscled flesh and the pair of olive-tinged nipples.

"Jim?" Spock's voice drew him back to reality and Jim was suddenly aware, that he had been staring at Spock's chest for entirely too long.

_Fucking hell_.

He felt his cheek heating up instantly and his gaze snapped up to the Vulcan's inquisitive, brown eyes. "Yeah?"

"Are you well, Jim?"

"Perfectly fine, Your Highness," Jim crossed his arms in front of himself. "I was led to believe that Vulcans did not fight if not necessary?"

"I was training," Spock said, cocking his head to the side. "I do believe you are aware of the difference?"

_Damn_, that Vulcan was infuriating as hell.

"You had that guy pinned down and were pushing your thumb into the weakest point of his spine. With all due respect, Your Highness, you could have snapped his backbone or caused some serious paralysis if you had used just a tad more pressure," Jim lifted his chin slightly. "In my world, simple training never includes a threat of being killed."

"Are you lecturing me, _Mr. Kirk_?"

"I don't know, am I, _Your Highness_?"

For a moment, neither of them spoke, Jim was glaring at the taller man, meeting Spock's unwavering stare head on.

Finally, Joanna's snorting giggle interrupted their eye-duel and Jim looked down at her. "What's so funny, little Lady?"

She shook her head, letting go of Spock's little finger and clapping both hands over her mouth. Jim shook his head in fond exasperation. "It's not nice to laugh at others, Lady Jo."

"But you two are so funny!" she exclaimed through her fingers.

"Vulcans are not 'funny', Joanna."

"Yeah, if they were, this palace would be a little more interesting," Jim mumbled.

"Our opinions on what is considered interesting seem to differ greatly," Spock's eyebrow quirked upwards and Jim felt like he was being mocked by it.

"Not everyone likes being a walking computer."

"Illogical. I am certainly not a computer," Spock shifted slightly, hiding his hands behind his back, straightening up a little more. "However, you seem to be of the opinion that expressing illogically high amounts of emotion, especially unwarranted anger and frustration, is the appropriate way to behave oneself."

Jim clenched his hands into tight fists, his knuckles whitening. "Don't you dare to assume that you know anything about me."

"I shall do so, if you agree to do the same," the Prince took a step back and inclined his head. "If there is nothing left to discuss, I will leave now."

"I won't stop you," Jim snorted.

Spock ignored him and crouched down in front of Joanna instead, his stoic face softening. "I will see you later to read to you again."

"Yes!" Jo said excitedly. "Can we read _Alice in Wonderland_ again?"

"Of course," Spock stood. "Good day, Joanna. Mr. Kirk."

Jim watched the Prince walk away for a second. That damn Vulcan Prince was pissing him off and it got worse every day that passed. Finally, he pulled himself together and took Joanna by the hand to lead her out of the training hall. "How about we go and visit Gaila in the kitchen now? I bet the cookies are done already."

"Yeah! Do you think she made the ones with the green berries?" Joanna was bouncing slightly while walking.

"Let's hope so," Jim answered, trying to keep his tone light. "You have to tell me how to get to the kitchen, Jo, I have no idea where we are. Everything looks the same. Even the Vulcans."

Jo started to laugh, stopping in the middle of the hallway to wrap an arm around her middle. After four minutes of continuous snorting and giggling, Jim was almost afraid that she would cramp and start to hyperventilate. When the little girl finally calmed down, her face was beet-red and her eyes were filled with tears of mirth. Jim tried to look indignant, causing Joanna to start giggling anew. "Are you mocking me, Lady Joanna?"

"N-no!" Jo managed to choke out.

"I don't believe you," Jim whined. "You're making fun of me!"

"Mr. Knight-Jam, pl-please, my tummy hurts already!" Joanna squealed and sat down heavily onto the stone floor, trying to get herself under control.

"Alright, alright," Jim chuckled and scooped her up into his arms. "Let's go to Gaila, hm?"

"Yeah," Jo sighed through another small snicker. "We have to go that way."

She stretched her arm out in towards the right end of the long corridor and Jim started walking. Joanna was babbling happily about the Disney movies she had already watched and how her Father sometimes acted like Sebastian from 'The Little Mermaid'. By the time they reached the kitchen, Jim was having a hard time at staying upright, because, what he really wanted to do was roll across the floor while laughing like a moron.

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><p>Yaiy, totally useless chapter! HOORAY.<p> 


	7. Chapter 6: Happiness in Slavery

Hey guys! Sorry for not updating sooner, I got swallowed by RL.

I got a job recently and I've got a lot to learn for University, so I might be a little less frequent with my updates.

Anyway, I wish everyone the best for the New Year [belatedly]!

Talltree-san: Gaila is the best cook in the galaxy. Don't tell Spock, he'd only tell you, that it is illogical to assume so.

Adrianna: Haha, thank you!

Btw, Nerdy. I hope you notice how Gaila calls Leonard. Thanks for inspiring me =P.

Sooo... it's unbetaed, I hope you do not mind. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds <strong>

Chapter 6: Happiness in Slavery

It was 6.35 in the morning. Spock had woken 18.7 minutes ago and decided to take a walk through the palace. It was rather silent, only a few servants were bustling through the halls. Spock made his way towards the living-room, intent on savouring his time alone by spending it in the garden.

However, when he arrived, the glass door was already opened and Spock could see Jim outside, attempting a cartwheel. The attempt failed and Jim fell flat on his back, a soft laugh escaping his mouth. Spock blinked and stepped outside, carefully seating himself in one of the basket chairs.

Jim was sprawling across the thick grass, the wide, white shirt had ridden up exposing a tanned, flat stomach and jutting hipbones were the pants had slid down slightly. The sunlight was caught by honey coloured hair and Spock noticed, with suppressed amusement, the tiny _waneti _blossoms littering the bright locks. It was something Joanna would do, but the small girl was not present at the moment and Spock had not taken Jim as somebody who would voluntarily adorn himself with flowers.

Then again, did he truly know what kind of person Jim was? The Human barely spoke to him and if he did, it was while they worked on translating various texts. For some reason, Jim refused to even try to see that not all Vulcans thought the same way. That Spock did not think the same way. Spock wanted Jim to see that he was different; it was an urge issuing from the very depths of his chest cavity that made him _crave_ for Jim's approval.

Jim stretched his arms towards the sky above him, the sleeves of his shirt sliding down to reveal soft skin and lithe muscle. There was something different about Jim today. The slight tension that always had a firm grip upon the young man was gone, leaving the Human carefree and almost child-like. Spock lifted an eyebrow when Jim rolled over onto his stomach and started to pluck at the grass, tongue peeking out between his lips.

Spock knew he should not be studying Jim like this, but he could not help himself. He had always been fascinated by the almost thoughtless way Humans seemed to run through their lives, always moving, constantly changing. Spock would compare them to an ocean; conflicted and two-faced. Its waves could be nipping at the shore in languid strokes and the next second it would be in the grips of a heavy storm, causing the water to devour everything in its path.

Spock shifted in his seat, tilting his head to the side as Jim let his head drop onto the ground, his back moving upwards as he took a deep breath, before it dropped down again when Jim exhaled. Spock was fascinated by the strange tranquillity of the scene.

The soft chirp of a _lara_ made Jim look up sharply and Spock was caught in his field of vision. For a moment it was silent, not even a gust of wind rustled through the leaves.

2.4 seconds later, Jim was on his feet and stalking off. Spock sighed softly and stood to walk back inside.

He seated himself at the table where Joanna and Jim usually sat to study. He was alone in the living-room for 17.5 minutes, before somebody stumbled inelegantly down the staircase and finally fell with a high-pitched yelp. Spock turned towards the noise and found a certain Pavel Chekov sitting at the foot of the stairs. The boy looked equally confused and pained.

Spock stood and walked towards Pavel. "Have you injured yourself?"

Pavel squeaked and jumped to his feet. "_N-nyet_!"

The young man was incredibly... 'skittish' most of the time. Whether or not there was a reason behind this particular behaviour, Spock did not know, but it was rather concerning that Pavel seemed ready to bolt whenever there was a noise above 70 decibel. "Very well."

"Y-your Father w-wishes to speak to you, Y-Your Highness," Pavel stammered. "I-in his study."

Spock inclined his head and lifted an eyebrow, when Pavel bowed to him, before running out of the room.

With a shake of his head, Spock turned towards the staircase and slowly made his way to the upper floor.

The dark, wooden table standing in the middle of his Father's study swallowed the sunlight seeping through the windows. A PADD was blinking just beside a stack of paper, indicating a new message. Father ignored it, however, instead, he lifted his gaze to look at Spock. "Son."

"Father."

"Please, take a seat."

Spock obediently sat on the chair in front of his Father's desk. "You wished to speak to me?"

"Indeed. You will completing the bond with T'Pring in 4.3 months. I believe that is enough time for you to prepare."

It was less time than Spock had hoped for. "Very well, Father."

Father nodded and finally reached for the PADD, staring at the screen for a moment. Observing the marginal furrow forming between his Father's brows, Spock dared to question the contents of the message. "What has happened?"

"Nothing of importance," Father said and stood. "You may leave now, Spock."

Spock inclined his head, accepting the dismissal, even if a strange sense of foreboding sunk into his stomach. He left the room, just turning a corner to walk back downstairs when the sound of heavy boots stomping towards his Father's study made him stop in his tracks. Spock stealthily glanced around the corner, watching a tall Romulan step through the door he had just left through. He waited 13.5 seconds, before silently walking back, listening intently to catch the Romulan speaking.

"_... information, Your Highness. Merely rumours. I have heard sailors speaking about a rebel movement on _Qo'noS_, but it might have been nothing but a mere story told to frighten people."_

"_We cannot be certain of this._"

"_I'm aware, Your Majesty, but there's no actual proof. We will keep up surveillance, of course, but it might be a false alarm._"

"_False alarm... do you truly believe this?_"

A short silence followed. "_...No, Your Highness. I do not._"

"_What have you heard from Earth?_"

"_Nothing. They are... still as subdued as always._"

"_I see._"

Spock moved away from the door when he heard a chair scrape backwards across the floor. He had already heard too much and he did not want his Father to find out that he had done something so distastefully non-Vulcan as _eavesdropping_. Surely, his Father would have told him to stay, if he wanted him to hear about what was being discussed in the study. Quickly, he walked back downstairs and towards the kitchen to see, if a certain Miss Vrao was already awake and making breakfast.

The kitchen was filled with Joanna's childish giggling and Gaila's echoing guffaws.

Joanna was seated on the kitchen-counter, feet dangling above the ground as she watched Gaila prepare breakfast, eyes wide with curiosity. Leonard had slumped over in a lone chair standing in the corner. His lids were swollen and the dark shadows underneath his red-tinted eyes suggested a late night following an early morning. Apparently, Joanna had decided not to let the poor Doctor sleep in after he had taken the night-shift the other day.

"Ladies, please... be a lil' quieter, yeah?" Leonard groaned.

"Aw, you poor baby... I'm going to make some coffee for you," Gaila hummed and winked at Leonard. "You look like you could use a cup."

Spock tilted his head to the side curiously when Leonard's cheek-bones became dark with blood.

Gaila looked up and Spock was caught in her gaze, watching as her mouth curled into a broad smile. "Well, look who's gracing us with his presence! Good morning, Your Highness."

"Good morning, Miss Vrao."

"Spock!" Joanna's excited exclamation echoed throughout the large kitchen.

The little girl hopped off the kitchen-counter, stumbling slightly as she hastily crossed the space between Spock and herself. Her face was smeared with Kray-jam and bread crumbs littered the front of her shirt. Leonard would need to bathe her after breakfast, it seemed.

Spock inclined his head and knelt down in front of the child. "Hello, Joanna."

She grinned brightly. "Lala made more Kray-jam! It's deli...delu... _yummy_!"

Spock lifted an eyebrow at the strange name. "Who is 'Lala'?"

Joanna pouted and pointed at Gaila. Spock blinked, understanding dawning on him. Apparently, 'Gaila' was not simple enough a name to use for Joanna. The small girl had a 'nickname' for almost everyone in the palace, except the King and Spock himself.

"Do you know where Mr. Jam is, Spock?" Joanna asked, reaching out to tug at Spock's sleeve nervously.

Spock gently detangled her tiny fingers from the fabric. "I have seen him in the garden, but I do not believe he is there any longer."

"Oh," Joanna mumbled and sighed heavily. "Why didn't you bring him with you?"

"As I have said, Jim is not very fond of me, I doubt he would have even considered coming with me," Spock stood again and accepted the Kray-fruit Gaila held out towards him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Your Highness," Gaila winked and turned towards Leonard with a twist of her feet. "Hey, Leo, Princess Jo-Jo and I want to do some shopping today. I hope that is not a problem?"

Leonard stared at her, blinking slowly. "Excuse me... what?"

"I assume you are speaking of going to the market to purchase sustenance? You will have to let a guard escort you," Spock bit off a spike of the fruit.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Gaila waved Spock's statement off. "Well, Leo, is your little Princess allowed to come with me, or not?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, I know you love your little baby bird, but she needs to spread her wings a little! Being around grouchy old men and a bunch of stuck-up – pardon me, Your Majesty – Elves won't help her mental development at all!"

Leonard snorted. "And going _shopping_ with you will?"

Gaila crossed her arms in front of her chest and pushed her lower lip out into an expression that Spock had seen Joanna do quite frequently whenever she wanted Leonard to do something for her. On a grown woman however, it looked more ridiculous than 'cute'. However, Spock knew not to tell her this. Women, no matter what species they belonged to, could be quite vicious when insulted.

Leonard seemed to think differently however and caved almost instantly. "Fine! Take her to go shopping, I don't care."

Joanna squealed and climbed onto her Father's lap. "Thank you, Papa!"

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome, Prin-," Leonard abruptly stopped talking when Gaila threw her arms around Leonard's neck and pressed a loud kiss against his cheek.

"Thank you, Leo!"

The Doctor had tensed up within the circle of Gaila's embrace, but made no attempt to escape. Instead, Spock was able to watch as Leonard's face turned crimson with blood and embarrassment. Gaila let go quickly again and practically skipped back towards the hearth.

"You're the best, Papa," Joanna declared with a broad smile.

The man rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But just so ya know, you're goin' to tell Jimbo that you're not gracing him with yer presence today."

The small girl tilted her head to the side, furrowing her brows slightly. "Huh?"

Leonard sighed fondly. "Mr. Jam needs you to tell him that he doesn't need to learn with ya today, darlin'."

"Oh!" Joanna covered her mouth with both hands and hopped off her Father's knees, running towards the door. "Be right back, Lala! Don't go without me! I gotta find Mr. Jam!"

"Alright, little Princess!"

Leonard shook his head with a soft smile, before turning his eyes onto Gaila. "Promise me to take good care of her."

"Of course, Leo, who do you think I am? I would never let anything happen to your little angel."

Spock felt the left corner of his mouth twitch upwards when Leonard leaned back in his chair, looking rather content with Gaila's answer. The scent of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen when Gaila opened the oven to check on her latest creation.

"Breakfast is almost finished, Your Highness, just a few more minutes, then you can get back to whatever princely duties you have," Gaila chirped.

Spock raised an eyebrow but decided not to comment. He knew from experience that Humans and Orions were very likely the most illogical species among the galaxy.

Finally, the breakfast was done and Spock ate as fast as he could without seeming hasty, before excusing himself, saying that he had a rather tight schedule today. This was not entirely true since he actually had nowhere to be today. But due to the fact that he had decided to continue his research about politics and various planets' history, it was an adequate excuse to escape Leonard's mockery about his quiet rebellion. His destination was the library, where he hoped to find more texts about the expansion of the Vulcan Empire. The few that existed were desperately vague in their phrasing and rather exhausting to interpret.

The library was a high, round hall, the walls covered in shelves filled with endless rows of ancient books. Spock remembered when his Mother used to take him here with her to read him the fairy tales his Father had forbid him to even look at. They had sat nestled between shelves, a blanket around their shoulders, while Spock listened to the soft voice of his Mother as she used the various writers' words to paint the exotic beauty of foreign worlds into his young mind. It had been their little secret until he turned eleven and his education became his sole focus.

Spock let his fingers glide across the worn copy of _Children's and Household tales_ by Jacob and William Grimm, nestled between Michael Ende's _The Neverending Story_ and Roald Dahl's _Matilda_.

Mother had refused to remove the few books she had from Earth from the library when Father told her to do so to keep Spock from reading them. She had asked him, if Humanity was not good enough a writer to earn its place in the palace, causing Father to fall silent and finally walk out of the room without another word. Mother had looked rather pleased with herself.

Spock let his hand fall away from the memorabilia of his childhood and systematically searched through the shelves.

30.7 minutes later, Spock walked out of the library, three books tucked securely under his arm. He settled on his bed, locking the door with a short command and flicked the first book open, skimming over the small print, trying to find anything remotely interesting.

He found it strange that the Vulcan mind was based on logic while their books were neither informative nor in anyway helpful when trying to find out about the history of Vulcan. It seemed like everything even vaguely interesting had been removed.

Spock furrowed his brows. Could that be the answer?

Had somebody decided to erase the important details out of every existing book on Vulcan history? The very details that would explain why there was still slavery in a society as advanced as theirs?

If so, why?

Confused and unable to solve this particular equation at the moment, he decided to return to translating the Andorian texts. This turned out to be just as frustrating as his former activity, when the third page proved itself to be an insurmountable challenge for him. He reached for his comm. cell and quickly called Jim's comm. unit.

"_Kirk here_."

"Spock here, I would like to inquire if you are unoccupied at the moment."

A quiet scoff. "_Yeah, why_?"

"I am attempting to translate the next text and I am in need of assistance."

"_Alright. Be there in five minutes_."

Jim arrived 5.2 minutes later, overriding Spock's lock with ease and climbing onto the bed without even glancing at him once. "Where did you get stuck this time?"

They had worked in silence for 3.4 hours, before Jim finally commented on the history books Spock had taken with him. "What are these for? Shouldn't you know Vulcan's history like... by heart or something?"

"I do not believe that anyone on this planet knows the true history of Vulcan," Spock answered sincerely. "I have tried to find out what has truly happened when Vulcan expanded and overtook the galaxy. My search has been unsuccessful until now."

Jim cocked his head to the side and picked up one of the books, flipping it open, his blue eyes flickering back and forth as he read. Slowly, his brows started to furrow and he began to chew on his bottom lip. "Huh... you're right. This thing tells you absolutely nothing. It's like somebody cut out parts and pieced it back together intricately enough to hide that fact. Weird."

Spock was elated. Jim believed him. "Indeed. I have tried to form a theory upon why somebody would do this, but I was unable to find a logical solution to the problem."

Jim smirked, finally looking up at him. "Maybe that's the reason. Who says there's a logical solution? To me, it looks like the selfish attempt of someone who wants to hide something important. Something so shocking, that it had to be swept under the rug by the government."

Spock was mildly puzzled. "'Swept under the rug'?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "It means somebody let something disappear. You know... a secret."

"Ah," Spock nodded. "But what would this secret entail? It could not be the fact that Vulcans were once a rather violent species, everyone is aware of this."

"Yeah, I know," Jim ran a hand through his tousled, blond mane, ruffling it even further. "Maybe it's something more recent. Something that happened after Vulcan decided to go all _Overlord_ on our galaxy."

"Indeed," Spock did not dare to ask what Jim meant by 'Overlord', fearing that it would anger the Human. "I did notice that there is a large gap between the war against the Klingons and the seizure of the Romulan Empire which has been left undocumented."

Jim frowned. "Huh... that means... there's almost thirty years of history _missing_?"

"It would seem so."

A strange, almost feverish sheen covered Jim's eyes. "We're _definitely_ onto something."

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><p>Okaaay. This chapter was even more pointless than the one before. And that's sayin' something. Dammit.<p> 


	8. Chapter 7: Good Enough

Hey guys!

So. First things first. I. HATE. this. chapter.

Thank you for your attention.

hazardcones: I kinda forgot writing back to your review, I'm so sorry. *headdesk* Thank you!

Adrianna: Omg, "adorkable" is the best word ever. Thank you for calling Jim that. He's wearing it like a batch. And lol for equating him with a cat, I was thinking the exact same thing while writing him. That, and my cat inspired me.

Talltree-san: Yaiy, I'm glad you didn't find it totally pointless. =)

Kim: Yep, you're probably right!

Alrightey. Enjoy guys. The thing's unbetaed and I didn't really look through it, because University keeps throwing work at me.

* * *

><p><strong>Between two Worlds <strong>

Chapter 7: Good Enough

After they had been unable to find anything within the books, they had migrated into the library to search for information together. Jim had climbed onto one of the large ladders to reach the uppermost row of books, body straining as he tried to balance himself. "You stupid Elves price yourself on being _oh so logical_, but you're unable to build a library where you won't run into the danger of breaking your neck every ten seconds?"

"You are the one who insisted on ascending the ladder," Spock said evenly. "I had assumed you enjoyed danger."

Jim glared down at the Vulcan. "Shut up, asshat."

For a moment, Jim relished in the stunned silence that followed. "'Ass… hat'?"

The sheer disbelieve that swung alongside Spock's low timbre made Jim almost double over the top rung of the ladder with laughter. The ladder trembled marginally and Jim clung to the shelf in front of him. "Oh, fuck! I can't believe you just said that!"

"I merely repeated what you said, Jim."

Jim chuckled and slowly descended the ladder, plopping the books he had taken with him into Spock's arms. "Here. It's not much and I doubt they will be of any help. But we can try."

The Prince inclined his head and sat down at the large table near the high windows, before opening one of the books. Jim took a seat beside him, pulling another one of the ancient works towards himself, flipping it open. "So, why are you so interested in this stuff anyway?"

Spock looked up, one eyebrow raised. "I do not understand."

Jim shook his head slightly. "Why do you care about what exactly happened? Your species has been running the galaxy for almost two hundred years now. What does it matter?"

The slanted, black eyebrows of the Prince furrowed marginally. "Tell me, Jim, if you were in my position, would you not search for the answer simply because you are part of the species that is in charge of the galaxies political and military order?"

"You're in charge of fucking _everything_, Your Highness," Jim snapped, before sighing. "But you're right. I'd be the first one trying to find out what the hell was going on."

Spock nodded and they returned to their search. Jim let his eyes skim over the letters, trying to find some kind of evidence for what might have happened in those thirty years. He sighed as he turned the last page, having found nothing, when he noticed the tiny piece of paper wedged between the last page and the board. He pulled it out carefully and folded it open. He blinked at the numbers unfolding themselves before him. They were not written in Vulcan but in Arabic numerals.

_12/3/20/52_

"Uh... Your Highness...?" Jim held the tiny piece of paper out towards the Vulcan. "Did you put that there?"

Spock blinked and stared at the numbers for a moment. "No, I did not."

Jim frowned. "You think it's something important?"

Spock shook his head once. "I assume that it was a note that someone made and forgot."

"Huh," Jim shrugged and stuffed the paper into his pocket. "Well, alright... let's see... 2063... First Contact with Earth. Before that were the first Orion War from 2056 to 2058 and two years later the second Orion War which ended 2061 in Orion being taken over by the Vulcan Empire. Everything that happened between 2027 to 2055 is almost completely missing. _The Klingon Empire was proofing to be rather resistant. After the Klingon Army had managed to destroy 80% of Vulcan's battle ships, the War seemed lost and 2051, the Vulcan Empire retreated. 2054 Vulcan tried to overtake __Qo'noS anew and succeeded._ Seriously? No explanation as to how they suddenly got the military strength to do so?"

"What concerns me more is why there is never any concrete mentioning of the Romulan Empire's fall," Spock said quietly.

"When was it anyway?"

"The Vulcan Empire fought against the Romulans in the years 2051 to 2053. However, I do not understand how this is possible, if our military forces had been so severely diminished by the Klingons."

Jim nodded. "I don't get it either. Nothing makes sense. Your history books are crap. Do your computers' have a database of some sort? Maybe we'll have more luck there."

"I have already searched the databases and have found even less information," the Prince answered. "Believe me, Jim, I would have not asked for your help, had I had any other option."

Instantly, Jim felt anger rise inside him alongside a tiny sliver of hurt which he suppressed immediately. "Right. Of course, you know what? I think we should stop for today."

Hastily, Jim stood and started to close the books he had opened, shoving them towards Spock. The Vulcan seemed rather unimpressed, watching him intently. "I have upset you."

"What? No, no you didn't," Jim snapped. "Now if you'd excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

As soon as he had left the library, Jim wanted to hit his head against the wall until he passed out. What the hell? Had he seriously just walked out of a room like a period-ridden teenage girl because Prince Pokerface was being his usual, unemotional self? Jim buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. Apparently, yes.

With a sigh, Jim made his way towards his room again, intent on holing himself up and wallow in his self-pity for a while.

His room was located on the east side of the palace, leaving him with a great view of the large garden. Also, if sometimes, when he forgot to close the blinds in the evening, the sun would wake him gently in the morning. Back in Iowa, before Winona married Frank, he would be woken the same way. Or Sam would poke his ribs until he rolled out of bed to hit his older brother for annoying him.

A sharp twinge of pain raced through his chest at the thought. Sam was still on Earth.

Jim furrowed his brows and glanced towards the comm. unit in the corner of his room. With a determined inhale he seated himself in front of it, turned it on and started hacking into the intergalactic transmitting-system.

Five minutes and various fire-walls later, Jim had gained access and hastily punched in the number to call the Kirk farm. It took almost three minutes until somebody answered and then it had to be Frank.

"_The hell? Shouldn't you be whoring yerself, boy?_"

"For your information, I did not _whore_ myself even once, you asshole. I'm working at the King's palace as a servant. Now get Sam on the comm. It's not you who I wanna talk to."

Frank's face was split by an ugly grin. "_Sam's not here anymore, you little fucker, he left as soon as they dragged you outta the house. Went to New York to start a new life._"

Something cold settled in Jim's stomach, heavy and icy enough to burn. "W-what do you mean? Then give me his comm. number!"

The man snorted and slouched further into his seat. "_'fraid I can't, boy. He vanished over night. I don't even know where exactly he is. Not even your Mom knows. Cut all ties and ran off._"

Jim swallowed and reached for the button to end the call. "Fine. Have a good life, Frank."

"_Try not ta get fucked by an Elf, boy._"

"Fuck you."

The screen went black and Jim stood, his knees trembling.

He needed some fresh air.

The garden was silent apart from the usual chirps and buzzes issuing from the numerous animals inhabiting the giant area. Jim climbed into one of the large basket chairs, drawing his legs up and tucking his face into his knees. Sam had left the house as soon as Jim had been gone. That mean, that Sam had only stayed for Jim. Because he had felt obligated to protect him. Because Jim was too weak to do so himself.

Jim bit his lip, ignoring the metallic taste flooding his mouth.

A warm, slender hand touched his shoulder, settling there with cautious tenderness. "Are you alright?"

He looked up, freezing when he found himself face to face with Lady T'Pala. She was looking at him through dark brown eyes, the same colour as her son's, a blue scarf was wrapped around her neck and covered her hair, causing her face to seem even more delicate and pale. A few curls of dark hair covered her forehead, peeking out from underneath the fabric.

"Y-Your Majesty," Jim stuttered, brushing away the stray tear that had sneaked out of the corner of his eye. "I'm fine, don't concern yourself with me."

Lady T'Pala exhaled heavily and sat on the bench opposite from Jim's chair, her hand sliding down to rest on his arm. "You are a very bad liar, young man."

Jim huffed. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I do not think you're truly interested in my problems."

A dark look passed over her face and Jim was taken aback by the openness of her expression. "Believe me, James, I am. Do you want to tell me what is upsetting you?"

"Not particularly," Jim mumbled and rested his chin between his knees. "I just called our farm in Iowa. I wanted to talk to my brother, Sam. Frank, the asshole that got me into this mess, said he left as soon as I was gone and that he didn't know where he was. I have no one. No one's waiting for me back on Earth. I never had a real home, but at least I had a family, even if it only consisted of my older brother."

T'Pala covered her mouth with one hand while the other rubbed tiny circles into the tense muscles Jim's arm. "I am sorry, James."

Jim blinked. Was being sorry not considered illogical on Vulcan? Especially since it was not her fault in the first place? He was confused by her behaviour. "I... uhm... thank you, Your Majesty."

"You are welcome. And I believe you already have a new family. Or at least a Princess, from what Joanna has told me," her lips twitched into an almost smile, her eyes sparkled. "She is a very charming child, is she not?"

Jim could not suppress the smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, she is."

The Queen nodded slowly, her gaze lingering upon him, soft and full of understanding. It made him feel warm and cold at the same time. Warm with the feeling of having someone that actually cared. Cold with the knowledge that those who _should_ have cared had never done so. He imagined that, if Winona had cared enough to be a Mother to Sam and him, this would have been the way she would have looked at them. It was the same way, Bones would sometimes look at Joanna whenever she was quietly playing with her toys, lost in her own world. "Do you like my garden, James?"

"Very much, Lady T'Pala."

"I am glad. I have spent a lot of time cultivating it. Most Vulcans, you see, are not very enthusiastic gardeners. When I arrived here, it was rather... barren."

Jim snickered. "Well, less vegetation means less waste of water."

The Queen inclined her head. "Yes, but I did not particularly care. My husband is the King. I was quite certain he would be able to pay the costs."

Did the _Queen of Vulcan_ just make a joke? Jim snickered. "And here I thought Vulcans had no humour."

Lady T'Pala ducked her head and Jim was almost certain that she was smiling.

The Queen looked up again, her eyes darting towards the rustling leaves of the _indukah _trees, an odd, wistful expression taking over the fine features of her face. "Then you have not met my son, it seems."

"Prince Spock and a sense of humour?" Jim laughed heartily. "No, I'm sorry, but... just no. He's just like every other Vulcan here; uptight and logical enough to frustrate a computer. Not... that that's a bad thing, Your Majesty. Not at all."

"If you would take the time to get to know him better, I am sure you will see that he is... quite unique," Lady T'Pala tilted her head to the side, her lips settled in something that could be smile, if their corners would curl upwards just a degree further.

It was a very strange smile, reminding Jim of the painting of the Mona Lisa. Clearly there, but unable to be truly detected, lingering softly in the creases of her lips. "If you say so, Lady T'Pala."

She nodded and abruptly changed the topic. "It took me a long time to convince my husband to buy me _dballily_ seeds. He was certain that they would not grow here. I was adamant, however, to prove him wrong. Especially since he had absolutely no proof that what he himself said was the truth. When the first _dbalillies_ blossomed, he was rather... subdued."

Jim refused to call what came out of his mouth next a giggle. "I bet he was. Say, why would you plant something in your garden that smells like the highest intoxicant to a Vulcan?"

A mischievous twinkle sparked within her eyes. "Well, they might smell like chocolate, but they do not have any intoxicating properties. However, their scent certainly helps when one is trying to loosen up their husband."

Jim gaped at her. His brain felt like it had fallen over like a bookshelf, spilling its contents on the floor and confusing him even further. "What-?"

"Lady T'Pala? Your husband is requesting your presence in his study," a soft voice broke through the comfortable atmosphere that had build up around Jim and Lady T'Pala, shattering it instantly.

"Oh, of course, thank you," T'Pala's long dress swished across the floor as she stood and when she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Jim's head, he barely managed to keep himself from flinching backwards in surprise. "I hope we will be able to talk again soon, Jim."

Jim nodded and watched her leave. With a sigh he directed his gaze back towards the garden. Something was very suspicious about the Queen. She did not act at all like a Vulcan. Sure, she sounded like one, but the way she did not hesitate to initiate contact was overly strange, considering that Vulcans were touch-telepaths. Her face was too expressive and her gestures almost too human. Jim snorted. What was he thinking? Maybe some Vulcans decided not to wear a stick up their ass when not in public, who knew?

It would explain the way Prince Spock acted around Jo sometimes. After all, the Vulcan was being very open with the little girl.

His thought-process was broken by a soft yelp and the sound of a body hitting the stone terrace. Jim blinked, staring at the young servant he had seen once or twice while trying to find the kitchen lying on the floor beside his chair. "You okay?"

The boy sat up with a groan, rubbing his chin. His voice carried a thick accent. "Ouch... y-yes I am fine."

Jim slid off his seat to sit on the warm stone tiles in front of the younger human. A pair of pale blue eyes blinked dazedly up at him, the bruise forming on the left cheek bone causing one of them to swell shut steadily and his chin was bleeding sluggishly. "Geez... what the fuck happened to you?"

"N-n-nothing. I was c-clumsy," the boy stuttered.

"You know who's clumsy? Me in the kitchen. You got beaten up and don't try to argue with me, I know what I'm talking about," Jim gently palpated the boy's chin and cheek bone, trying to gauge, if there were any breaks. "We should get you to see Bones."

"B-Bones...? I d-d-do not underst... stand."

"Doctor McCoy, I call him Bones," Jim drew his hands away. "Nothing feels broken, but we can't be sure. Say, do you always stutter like that?"

The boy flinched and lowered his head while drawing his shoulders up at the same time. "Y-yes. I'm s-sssorry."

Jim bit his lip. "Hey, it's alright, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just... curious, that's all. It's fine. What's your name?"

"P-Pavel A-a-andreivich Ch... Chekov."

"Nice to meet you, Pavel, I'm James Kirk, call me Jim. James sounds like I'm sixty and sitting in a wheel-chair."

Pavel giggled nervously. Jim grinned and tugged the boy to his feet. Instantly, Pavel sucked in a pained breath and his legs buckled. He would have fallen, had Jim not wrapped his arms around the thin boy's torso, keeping him somewhat upright and standing. "Whoa, easy there!"

"I-I'm sss... sorry. M-my ankle...," Pavel choked and buried his face in Jim's shoulder.

"Okay, okay. Alright, we'll do this slowly. Let's get you settled on that chair, I'll call for Bones to come here," Jim helped the distraught boy to sit on the vacated basket chair, before kneeling down to look at the injured leg.

Upon finding the right one heavily swollen, he pulled the bench closer, on which Lady T'Pala had been sitting. Jim gently lifted the boy's foot onto the bench. "Keep it there, it needs to be elevated or the swelling will get worse, okay? I'll be right back-"

"N-n-no!" Pavel reached out and clutched Jim's sleeve tightly. "P-please."

"Alright," Jim sighed and knelt down. "Then can you tell me what happened?"

"I... I g-got beaten up."

He almost rolled his eyes, but he knew, that would have been counterproductive. "Yeah, I gathered as much. By whom? And why?"

Pavel fidgeted, sniffling quietly. "Th... the Guards... b-by the East V-Ving they do not l-like me much. E-esp... specially B-Barry G-G...Giotto. H-he... I... I do n-n-not know vhat is their p-problem. M-maybe it is b-because I... I am... s-sssmarter...?"

Jim snickered. "Probably. From what I've seen, the Guards can be real jerks. All of them."

"N-n-not all of th... them," Pavel mumbled. "H-Hikaru S-Sssulu is wery n-nice."

The faint hint of red blossoming on the boy's face told Jim everything. He did not even bother to suppress the mischievous grin forming on his face. "Oh, really? You like him a lot, hm?"

The reddish tint developed into a full blown blush that consumed the boy's face like a fire. "V-vhy v-vould you think th-that?"

"Heh, it's alright, Pavel," Jim got to his feet again, patting the boy's curly mop of hair. "I'll be right back, alright? Just stay put and try not to move your leg. We don't want it to get worse, now, do we?"

Pavel nodded, then shook his head, frowned and nodded again. Jim laughed and ran back into the palace to find the next comm. unit to contact the med-bay. He ended up in the kitchen, slightly confused, when he found Gaila not to be present, before remembering that she had taken Joanna shopping. The comm. unit was installed near the door to the dining-hall and he hastily made his call. Bones sounded rather grumpy, but he instantly agreed to leave his station, when Jim told him that _Pavel Chekov_ had been injured.

When Jim returned, the boy breathed out a relieved sigh upon seeing him. "Bones is on his way. Let's hope that he won't hypo you too often."

Pavel nodded, a tentative smile brightening the bruised and bloody face. Jim suppressed the odd pang in his chest and ignored the familiarity behind the scene in front of him to smile encouragingly. He would not let this happen to Pavel again.

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><p>Chapter sucks. Ending sucks more. And I don't even know why. Stupid ending. Stupid brain. *huddles in a blanket and hides* I'm gonna watch "Sherlock" until the stupidity has left my body.<p> 


	9. Chapter 8: Games Without Frontiers

Hey guys!

I wanted to get this done a lot sooner, but I had to study, so, yeah, sorry. =)

Kim: I'm sorry about talking the chapters down, I had a bad start into the new year. Thank you for your kind words and I'm glad you're enjoying even though I'm such a grump =)

Talltree-san: Hm, maybe I should read that story, sounds interesting! I'm sure Sam's fine in New York. ;)

Hawkette94: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I love Sulu and Chekov together, they're just so adorable. And, OMG, that episode was epic. I'm scared about The Reichenbach Falls, though. Even though Sherlock Holmes' story has been around for over a hundred years, it still makes me sad to think about it.

bee: Oh, welcome back! Thank you, I'm glad you liked the chapter. And I'm sorry for infesting your brain with Sherlock! =P

Alrightey. Chapter is unbetaed. It might be a little... less... structured...? than the last. I dunno. I might have to edit!

Enjoy it anyway!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 8: Games without Frontiers

_A thin trail made of blue stone lead the way through the sandy ground of the canyon, like a river that had cut its way through the stone for hundreds of years. Silence permeated the air. Even the birds circling the pale sky issued no sound. Red paint dripped from the rocks surrounding him on both sides, vanishing in the sand. Spock wandered on, cradling the tiny, glowing pearl between his palms, intent on finding the perfect place to plant it. His bare feet slapped against the warm stone beneath him, causing the surface to ripple like it was momentarily turned into water. _

_Time did not matter and he had long forgotten where exactly he was going. The way he had been following for, seemingly, hours started to become uneven, the stones fell apart, until Spock found himself walking out of the canyon and into a wide field of sand, interspaced with grey, flat stones. _

_The stones were smooth against Spock's soles, warm from the sun but not uncomfortably so. He glanced down at the pearl as it began to glow a little brighter within the confines of his hands._

_He moved on, watching the sun slowly sink towards the horizon, tinting the world around him red. The sky above him was painted orange and already littered with stars. _

_Finally, Spock stopped._

_In front of him was a perfectly round patch of thick, green grass. _

_Spock felt his lips twitch upwards and he knelt down to carefully dig a tiny hole into the soft, brown earth to place the pearl inside and cover it gently. It would be able to grow now, after years of being kept secret, hidden in a dark, obsidian cave somewhere within the very back of his being._

_Something white fell onto the ground beside him and Spock reached out towards it. It was a shredded piece of paper. More followed, covering the land like snow. Spock frowned and stood, tilting his head upwards. More paper fell from the sky, which was suddenly covered in clouds and of a deep purple colour. _

_He blinked slowly, once, twice. _

_A loud clap of thunder echoed through the landscape, causing him to jolt and shut his eyes_...

Spock sat up, eyes wide and unseeing for a moment.

What a strange dream. His eyes landed on the digital chronometer. 7.34 am. He had slept longer than usual. After Jim had left so abruptly yesterday he had tried to continue his search alone. However, he had been constantly distracted by his own brain as it struggled to understand why the younger man had been upset enough to leave.

Spock stood and made his way into the en-suite bathroom to wash and dress himself for the day.

As he turned on the shower, he tried to make sense out of the obscure dreamscape he had wandered through. What confused him most was the pearl he had been so adamant to _plant_. It was illogical; a pearl was not a seed. It could not be planted. Had he truly been hoping that something would grow where he had placed the glowing object?

Upon finishing his morning routine, he decided to head downstairs towards the dining-room.

As he descended the stairs, he was stopped by Joanna's voice calling out to him. "Spock! Wait for me!"

He stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the staircase, and had to reach out quickly to catch the tiny girl to save her from falling. "Joanna, did your father not tell you to be more careful?"

Joanna huffed and wrapped her thin arms around Spock's neck to look at him with wide eyes. "He did! I just needed to catch you, so I had to run!"

Spock shook his head mildly. "Promise me not to run on the staircase anymore. I do not want you to accidentally hurt yourself. Think about how sad your father would have been if something had happened to you right now."

Joanna lowered her eyes contritely. "'m sorry."

"It is alright, Joanna. Simply try to be more careful next time."

She nodded hastily. "I will! I promise!"

"Very well. What is it that you required me for?"

Joanna blinked then smiled brightly. "I don't know what that word means exactly, but I wanted to show you what Bunny and I drew yesterday!"

"_Bunny_...?"

The small girl frowned. "Bunny! You know... _Pavel_, but he looks like a bunny when he looks sad, so I call him Bunny!"

"Ah. I see," Spock did not know what to say to this, apparently to a child's mind, very logical explanation. He had certainly never equated Pavel Chekov to a rabbit before. Nor would he ever do so. "Where you not with Gaila yesterday?"

"Yeah, but we got home earlier and when Gaila took me down to see Papa, Mr. Jam and Bunny were there too!" Joanna leaned closer and Spock turned his head so she could whisper into his ear. "Bunny had some bad ouchies. He was crying too. I thought boys didn't cry, but he did, so I think it was very, very bad. Mr. Jam said that somebody hurt Bunny... Spock, can you make them not hurt Bunny anymore?"

"If I was aware who hurt Pavel, I might be able to help," Spock answered softly. He had not spoken to Pavel very often; the boy seemed to struggle with the simplest of words whenever he had to talk to him. "I hope your father was able to help him?"

"Yeah, Papa made him all better!" Joanna squirmed, tugging at Spock's shirt nervously. "Can we go look at my pictures now? Please?"

Spock inclined his head and walked back upstairs to Leonard's quarters. He had to override the code, since Leonard had the habit of changing his every night to prevent anyone from entering without permission. This had caused Joanna to wander the hallways alone more than once, since she was unable to enter her Father's room. The first time this had happened, Spock had found her trying to climb into an empty stone vase and had promptly taken her back to the sickbay. Leonard had almost been in tears when Spock carried the little girl through the door and towards him. In the end it turned out that Joanna had sneaked out of the medical bay to go back to her room to retrieve her crayons, but she had forgotten that the door was locked and after waiting for her Father to miraculously appear and open it, she decided to 'go on an adventure'.

After this, everyone in the palace was careful not to let Joanna walk around without supervision.

Joanna wriggled out of his arms and sprinted into her room to search for whatever she had drawn. Spock sat down on the small couch in the corner of the room and waited patiently. When Joanna returned, she was carrying two large pieces of paper.

She held them out and Spock took them obediently. The first one showed the crude painting of a house. The stick-like figures in the front would have been unrecognisable to Spock, had somebody not written their names above them. Spock assumed that it had been Pavel, since he could not identify the script. It was too small and too tightly written to be either James' or Leonard's.

The second picture was that of a colourful garden. Blotches of red, blue and yellow covered the paper where it had not been covered with green and brown.

"They are very beautiful, Joanna," Spock said as he carefully placed them onto the couch beside him.

Joanna grinned then grimaced when her stomach rumbled loudly. "Uh-oh. The monster in my tummy needs food!"

Truly, he would never understand humans. "Then we should go and feed it."

Joanna shook her head. "I need to wait for Papa!"

"Then I shall wait with you," Spock said.

The little girl shook her head once more, hard enough to send the curls on her head flying in every direction. "Papa will know that I left the room! He said I had to stay put, because I needed to wait for him! He'll know that I left if you stay!"

Spock nodded sagely. "I understand. Well then, I shall leave. I will see you at breakfast, Joanna."

He kissed the top of her head and left the room, once again heading down towards the dining-hall, only to freeze in his tracks, as soon as he opened the door.

Mother was seated at the far end of the large table, talking quietly with Jim. The young man had sat down beside Mother, listening attentively to her even if his drooping lids told Spock that Jim had not slept well. There was something vulnerable, almost fragile lingering in the way the blond held himself.

For 4.5 minutes he simply stood in the doorway and watched as his Mother patted Jim's arm soothingly, causing a hesitant smile to spread across Jim's face.

Two slender arms wrapped around Spock's waist and he felt the soft bosom of a woman press against his spine. He almost tensed, but he quickly realised who was standing behind him and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Miss Vrao, how often do I need to tell you that it is not acceptable to touch a Vulcan in this manner if they do not permit it first?"

"At least a hundred times more," Gaila whispered into his shoulder-blade, carefully seeing to that she was not touching his bare skin in any way. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Your Highness?"

"No," Spock answered. "May I inquire after the reason for your tactile ambush?"

"Of course you may, Your Highness," she snickered. "Well, for one, I'm a touchy-feely kind of person. Also, I wanted to ask you to be a little nicer to Jimmy today, he's had a rough time yesterday."

Spock's brow furrowed marginally. "I do not understand."

Gaila huffed out a hot breath of air against Spock's spine. His toes curled as he suppressed the shudder it caused; he only barely succeeded in doing so. "Well, after he left you sitting in the library, he kinda hacked into the communication-systems to call the Kirk farm back on Earth. He wanted to speak to his older brother, Sam. They were really close apparently. Jim's stepfather, Frank, answered and told him that his brother had left for... uh... _New York_ as soon as Jim was out of the house," Spock felt Gaila shrug behind him. "Jimmy thinks Sam only stayed at the farm, because he couldn't take Jim with him, since he would have never made enough money to support himself and his little brother. He thinks he was only a burden on everyone."

Spock nodded slowly. "I see."

It were situations like these that made him disagree with the current law even more.

"Do you?" Gaila whispered.

Spock felt the corner of his mouth turn up a tiny amount. "No. Tell me, why would a parent let this happen to their child?"

"There're more assholes in this universe than you'd think, Your Highness," the Orion's usually so bright and optimistic voice sounded bitter. "From what I know, his family consisted of his brother and a stray cat named Mo...Moriarty or something silly like that that came and went when it wanted."

"Ah."

Jim had turned his head to the side and Mother leaned forwards to touch his shoulder gently. The young man flinched and Spock was almost certain that he was crying.

Gaila stretched slightly behind him and when she planted her chin onto his shoulder, he realised, that she had moved to stand on her tip-toes. "Your Mom's been talking to him for ages now. I wanted to take the breakfast in twenty minutes ago, but I felt like I was interrupting something."

Spock inclined his head. "She has always been rather... attentive towards the emotional state of those around her."

"I noticed. Kinda odd for a Vulcan. But then again, you aren't that normal either. Letting me touch you like that."

"What did you expect I would do?"

"Dunno... break my arm maybe? Nerve-pinch me?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Fascinating. Very well, have you satisfied your tactile needs?"

"Not really, but I'll let you go anyway," Gaila chuckled and stepped away from Spock, only to lean against the doorframe beside him. "... I feel bad for Jimmy."

"There is nothing you can do," Spock said quietly.

"I know that, but still. I mean, look at him. He's been downtrodden before, but you should have seen his face when he came to my room for some comfort. I've seen kicked puppies that weren't that pathetic."

Spock tilted his head to the side. "I would never use the word 'pathetic' to describe Mr. Kirk."

Gaila's pointy elbow nudged him in the ribs a little too hard. "Someone's got a crush on my baby, huh?"

"It is mildly disturbing that you believe James to be your baby, Miss Vrao."

"Shut up, Mr. Literal," Gaila snickered. "Alright, looks like Jimmy's got himself under control again. I'm gonna go back to the kitchen and serve breakfast."

With that, the Orion vanished from view, back into the kitchen, the door swinging shut, but not before Spock could hear her shouting instructions towards the other servants working in the kitchen. Spock breathed in a measured breath and finally stepped into the dining-room to take a seat.

"Good morning, Spock," Mother said, a smile lingering in the corners of her lips. Too visible. As always.

"Good morning, Mother. Mr. Kirk," Spock nodded towards the younger man.

"Mornin'," Jim mumbled and stood, brows furrowed. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, I have somewhere to be."

Mother nodded. Jim hastily left the room and Spock was immediately caught in his Mother's disapproving stare. "Did you two have a disagreement?"

"I am unsure. Humans are very complicated. I am still struggling to understand them," Spock answered honestly.

Mother raised a hand to her mouth to hide the smile that had undoubtedly formed on her face. "Yes, we Humans can be quite illogical."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "You are mocking me."

"Never, darling," Mother said.

She straightened in her seat when the door opened to let Gaila make her entrance, pushing a cart filled with various plates towards them. While she spoke, she proceeded to place said dishes onto the table. "Sorry that it took so long, Your Highness, we got a little carried away with gossiping."

"That is quite alright, Gaila. Gossip can be very tempting," Mother said, eyes twinkling with mirth, even as her face betrayed no emotion.

Gaila gave a sloppy, mock-salute and rushed back out. Spock reached for the fork and started to eat slowly, contemplating quietly, if he should engage his Mother in a conversation. Finally, when the clinking of silver-ware became deafeningly loud in the large hall, he decided to speak. "Mother?"

"Yes, Spock?"

"There is something I do not understand."

"Please, do not be offended, darling, but there are a lot of things you will never understand," Mother winked.

Spock decided to ignore her comment. "How can you stand watching your people suffer by the hands of your husband's species?"

The hand in which Mother was holding her fork lowered slowly, deliberately. "I cannot stand it. But I have no choice but to pretend that I do. I married your Father Spock knowing that I would have to hide what I am."

Spock's grip on his own fork tightened, his knuckles turned white. "But why? Why would you willingly do this?"

A small, gentle smile lightened up her face. "You asked me this once before. Do you remember? I gave you my answer already, but I shall do so again. The answer is simple. I love your Father."

"It seems that love is a rather illogical thing to experience," Spock said and reached for the jug of Kray-juice.

Mother did not speak, instead the smile on her face transformed into a smirk and she resumed eating. Spock shook his head and filled his glass. It was then that he remembered the conversation he had had with Joanna. "Mother, do you know Pavel Chekov?"

"Of course I do, he has been here for almost three months now, hasn't he? A very sweet child," Mother lifted her eyes to look at him. "Why? Has something happened?"

"Indeed. Joanna has informed me that Pavel and James were in the medical bay when Gaila decided to take her down to see Leonard. Apparently, Pavel had been hurt in some way. The extent of his injuries remain unclear however, since Joanna lacks the descriptive vocabulary to- ," Mother gasped audibly, the hand not holding the fork moving up to cover her mouth and Spock frowned. "Has James not mentioned this while you spoke to him?"

A shake of the head was his answer. "That poor child. I will try to speak with him, if that is alright with you. He gets nervous very easily and the stutter only gets worse when he's around people taller than him... huh. All this suddenly makes so much more sense... I should have noticed something was wrong. Why didn't Jim tell-"

"_Spock! Look, I brought Mr. Jam!"_

Spock turned his head to see Joanna dragging a rather disgruntled looking Jim towards him. Leonard strolled in after them, yawning widely. "Jo-Jo, a little quieter, it's a little too early for you to be shoutin', okay?"

"Sorry, Papa," Joanna grinned and pushed Jim to sit on the chair on the opposite side of Spock, before climbing onto the chair next to the young man.

Leonard sat down beside Spock, lifting an eyebrow. "Looks like you got abandoned, Spock."

Joanna had started to shovel food onto her plate, only stopping to tell Jim to do the same. The blond sighed, a tiny smile tugging at his lips, as he complied and reached for a slice of bread and then stood to lean over the table to reach the Kray-jam. He was too short and Spock gently nudged the jar closer towards James, doing so quietly, as not to upset the younger man again. Jim mumbled a quiet thank you and sat down again, the jar in his hands.

Joanna had meanwhile succeeded in burying her hands into the bowl of _k'ryyrish_ berries, her fingers already covered in bluish juice and dark purple seeds. She pulled a handful of squashed berries out of the bowl and sighed heavily, clearly not pleased with what had occurred. "Aw, no! I just wanted to take a few! Why do I always squish them!"

Jim laughed and held out an empty plate to let her drop the fruits onto it. "You just have to be a little gentler, Jo. You remember the butterfly? You have to be very careful with them too."

Spock watched as he lifted his thumb to remove a smudge of juice from Joanna's cheek and lick it off thoughtlessly.

A moment later, Jim's brows furrowed with confusion and he swallowed thickly. His skin grew pale and his eyes widened, his left hand lifting to clutch at his throat. Spock was on his feet in an instant when Jim started to wheeze. Joanna released a frightened cry when Jim toppled off his chair, coughing and desperately gasping for air, and was hastily swept away by Spock's Mother.

"Dammit, Spock, help me get him to sickbay!"

Spock did not think twice about obeying the Doctor's order. He swept Jim into his arms and tried not to jostle him too much as he jogged after Leonard. This day was truly starting to be one of the less than pleasant ones.

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><p>Yaiy! Done! Uhm. Maybe not yaiy, because I'm being mean to Jim again. Sorry! And now, I'm off to prepare for the horrible Reichenbach episode tomorrow. Well... "today" actually. Geez... it's two in the morning already...<p> 


	10. Chapter 9: I Have The Touch

Yes! I finished it!

After having a cry-fest on Sunday [curse you Moffat and Gatiss!] I've been trying to get this chapter done. After finding out that I passed my first exam and am now, officially, able to continue studying, I've told myself that I need to post this chapter, because hell, if that wasn't inspirational.

Kim: Thank you! Yes, poor Pavel...

Talltree-san: I love your reviews. Yeah, being Jim sucks sometimes. :) I'm not allergic to anything either, thank you, my perfect immunesystem. Oh yes, Spock's super illogical, what-the-fuck-was-that dream. We'll see, we'll see. Oh and... money trees... I'd have planted cookies. I love cookies.

Adrianna: That's okay, I know how life can be :D I'm a person too when I'm not on the computer! Glad you liked it!

Alrightey. Un-betaed chapter is unbetaed. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 9: I Have The Touch

_Vines crawled across the floor of the circular room, sprouting red leaves, creating a sort of strange contrast to the crème coloured walls and the broken windows. Sunlight filtered through what was left of the glass. A soft, bell-like sound echoed in from outside. Jim waded through the thick vegetation towards the nearest window._

_Large, flat stones covered the ground, a sheet of shallow water covering the entire area. Jim slowly climbed out of the window, gasping when he immersed his feet in the cold water. The sky above him was bright blue and populated by large, white clouds. The tinkling sound became louder and Jim slowly made his way towards it. The stones beneath his feet were warm despite the cool water that blanketed them. A jellyfish swam past him through the air, trailing its delicate tentacles after itself. The distinct marking upon the animal's bloom identified it as a compass jellyfish and Jim stood still for a moment to watch it silently. _

_A swarm of flower hat jellies dotted the sky with colours, tumbling across the blue with clumsy movements. _

_Jim shook his head and wandered on towards the bell ringing in the distance. _

_After seemingly hours of walking and evading various jellies, Jim reached a small podium. It was circular and covered in grass. In its centre, a small, fragile sapling sat, two pearls clinging to its weak twigs, clinking together with every gust of wind and creating the sweet sound Jim had followed. _

_Jim knelt down, reaching out towards the small thing, trailing his fingertip across the pearls. They were warm and glowed soothingly golden, but the stem they were clinging to was dry. Tilting his head to the side he frowned, before scooting towards the podium's edge, gathering water within his palms to trickle it over the plant, feeling the need to nurture it. _

_Something thin and supple brushed across his neck, causing him to jump and look up. A large Lion's mane jellyfish had positioned itself directly above him, its endlessly long tentacles surrounding him like a curtain. Jim bit his lip and curled himself over the plant. He would protect it. _

_Soon he was shrouded in darkness, the only light being the two pearls..._

Jim came to painfully slow. His head was pounding and he felt mildly nauseous. Something held his right hand captive and there was a strange beeping noise aggravating his head even further. What a stupid dream. _Jellyfish_? Seriously? He groaned softly, opening his eyes to a white ceiling.

_Not in my room then_. Jim blinked dazedly at the unfamiliar surroundings, his brain trying desperately to catch up with what had happened. Why did he feel so weak?

"James?"

Right. Prince Spock's voice was definitely not something he would have liked to hear right after waking up. He sighed. "That's my name."

"Are you aware of where you are?" Spock asked, keeping his voice low for which Jim was insanely grateful.

Jim sat up carefully, leaning his back against the propped up pillow behind him. "I'm guessing sickbay?"

The Prince nodded. "Correct. You suffered from a severe allergic reaction to _k'ryyrish_ berry juice. Leonard encountered troubles in stabilizing you, since you, as it turned out, were also allergic to the hypo spray designed to prevent an anaphylactic shock. Needless to say, he was not pleased that you have not seen it necessary to tell him about your allergies."

"Crap," Jim mumbled. "How mad is he on a scale from 1 to 10, with 1 being just slightly irritated?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "A most curious way to determine the emotional state of another. I believe Leonard's level of aggravation would be placed between 7 and 8."

Jim sighed heavily. Great. Now he had to deal with a pissed off Doctor too. As he tried to lift a hand to his face to rub his tired eyes, he noticed that he was clutching Spock's long fingers in his own. They were cool, but not cold, large without seeming inelegant, soft but not in a feminine way. A small, green scar ran down Spock's thumb, barely visible, clearly many years old. A tiny mole sat beside his fourth knuckle and these small blemishes tugged the curtain of regal elusiveness away from Spock. A strange sensation thrummed through their shared skin-contact, sending tiny sparks of electricity up Jim's arm.

When his brain finally registered what his eyes were seeing, Jim jerked his hand away as if it had been burned. "What the fuck? Why were you holding my hand?"

Was it Jim's ill-aided imagination, or were Spock's cheek tinted greener than usual? "To correct your statement, it was not me who was holding your hand, but the other way around, albeit not consciously on your part. You reached out towards me while your body suffered through a spasm and, when it was over, you had not let go. I thought it logical to wait until you have woken before removing my hand, because-"

"How on Earth did you deem that logical?" Jim snapped and crossed his arms in front of his chest, suddenly feeling horribly exposed.

Spock seemed very close to rolling his eyes, but instead he merely carried on talking as if Jim had not rudely interrupted him. "-the medication Leonard gave you caused your muscles to paralyse for a short amount of time. I would have had to break your bones to release your grip. I waited until your muscles relaxed again and I was about to remove my hand from yours when you unexpectedly woke."

Jim flushed a deep red. "Oh. Well... alright."

Spock stood, moving his hands behind his back and straightening up a little more, his chin slightly lifted, making him look even taller than he already seemed from Jim's prone position on the bed. "I will inform Leonard that you are awake. Please, stay in bed until I have returned."

Nodding, he watched as Spock left, furrowing his brows. Spock's left hand clutched his right wrist tightly enough to tremble. As realisation dawned, Jim felt his face heat up once more. Vulcans kissed with their hands. He had practically molested the crown Prince for the entire time that he held his hand. Right, because he had not been embarrassed enough already, why not put a proverbial cherry on top?

Bones came barging out of his office, resembling a furious bull, while Spock trailed after him, looking as unemotional as always. The Doctor came to stand by Jim's bed, hands on his hips and brows furrowed heavily. "You're a real moron, aren't ya, kiddo? Ya could have told me ya had allergies, I'm a doctor for God's sake!"

"I didn't think about it, alright? I haven't had an allergic reaction for almost two years," Jim huffed. "No need to be dramatic, I'm fine now, aren't I?"

The Doctor growled. "Yeah, for now you're absolutely fine, but no thanks to your input, kiddo. Spock had to carry ya through the palace while ya were having one seizure after the other and once we got here, yer shitty immune-system kept screwin' with my medications. You try to come up with an anti-allergy shot while yer patient is on the verge of an overall organ-failure. If you forget to tell me something important like yer allergies again, I'm going to sew your mouth to your right knee next time ya end up here, got it?"

Jim scoffed, trying to fight the blush that had darkened his face enough for him to resemble a tomato. "Yeah, yeah."

Spock had had to _carry_ him? The proverbial cherry from before had just turned into a grapefruit of humiliation, squishing his ice cream sundae of embarrassment mercilessly.

"_Jam_!" a shrill voice screamed and cut through the awkwardness.

A second later, Jim was being squeezed to death by Joanna. Gaila's laughter echoed through the sickbay from where she had stayed standing in the doorway.

The little girl was wiping her snotty nose into his shirt, bawling loudly. "Y-you s-s-scared me!"

Jim patted her back soothingly, chuckling. "I'm sorry, Jo. I'll try not to do it again."

Gaila made her way towards them, shaking her head while giggling. "Geez, baby, you really can't start a week without causing some kind of hazard, can you?"

"Shut up, Gaila. And stop calling me 'baby'. I'm seventeen."

"Well, you don't act like it, most of the time."

"That's not true, you-"

Joanna let out a high-pitched sob, promptly interrupting their bantering. "It was m-my fa-fault!"

"No, Jo, why would you think that?" Jim gently tugged her up into his lap and kissed her forehead. "It was mine, I should have been more careful."

For minutes, Joanna simply clung to him, hiccupping sobs and sniffles were being muffled by Jim's shirt. When she finally calmed down, she grew limp and yawned, lifting a hand to rub her cheek. Gaila chuckled and pulled Joanna into her arms. "Looks like our little Princess could use a nap, hm?"

"'m not tired...," Jo mumbled and buried her face in Gaila's shoulder. "Don' need... nap, Lala..."

Gaila bit her lip to stop herself from giggling and turned to look at Bones. "I'm taking her back to your quarters, if that's alright with you, Leo."

Bones nodded. "Yeah, thank you, Gaila."

"No problem," a broad grin lit up her face and with a swift move, she tilted her head up to press a kiss to Bones' chin.

While the Doctor was still spluttering with embarrassment, Gaila left the medical bay, laughing quietly.

"Women," Bones grumbled quietly, his ears redder than usual and seemingly glowing with the amount of additional blood currently flooding them. He turned his attention onto Jim once more, brows furrowed. "I'm gonna keep ya here for another five hours, just in case."

Jim groaned. "But, Bones, I'm fine, you said so yourself!"

"Would you stop whining? It's merely a precaution. I don't want ya to have a relapse as soon as ya get back to yer room, that's all. Besides, I doubt you're able to even stand up at the moment,"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jim mumbled and quickly slipped his legs over the bed's edge to get up.

As soon as he was standing, however, a wave of dizziness hit him, causing his knees to buckle instantly. Bones caught him with a growl and pushed him back onto the mattress, before stepping away to cross his arms in front of his chest, eyebrow raised in a way that spoke the words 'I told you so' very clearly.

Jim curled up on his side, squeezing his eyes shut against the vertigo. Gentle hands pulled the blanket over him, tucking him with careful, almost unsure movements. Squinting upwards, he saw the Prince pulling his hands away from where they had been smoothing the fabric over Jim's shoulders.

"...Joanna made ya go soft, Spock."

"I will not grace such an illogical statement with an answer, Leonard," the Prince answered evenly.

Alright, so the Prince was being nice. Jim buried his face in the pillow. He did not need that stupid Vulcan's pity. He yawned, muffling the sound with his hand.

Bones chuckled and Jim felt the Doctor's rough hand pat his head. "Try to sleep, kiddo, when ya wake up, ya can go and do whatever ya normally do, when yer not wrecking havoc on yerself, okay?"

"Yes, Mommy," Jim mumbled.

He would sneak out as soon as Bones was occupied.

"Do ya have anywhere to be or could ya keep an eye on the twerp? I don't trust him."

A quick exhale, something that might have been a laugh, had the one it issued from been human. "I am able to stay and see to that he does not leave, yes."

_Dammit_.

Had Prince Spock just agreed to babysit him? As soon as he was able to stand up again, he would kick Bones' ass until the Doctor would not even dare to sit on it for at least a week.

Then again, it was not as if Bones had no apparent reason for doing this. Considering the amount of times that Jim fled sickbay before he was allowed to, especially after that one time where he received his tri-ox compound shot and collapsed in the hallway, because he had not waited the advised twenty minutes for it to be absorbed by the body, Bones had probably had enough and decided to not let it happen again.

Behind him, Spock took his seat on the chair he had been occupying before, while Jim listened to Bones' footsteps as they got quieter and quieter. Finally, a door slid shut with a hiss and it was silent. For a while, Jim lay there, tense and ridiculously aware of every tiny movement that Spock made. He did not want to fall asleep with Spock sitting there. He refused to be that vulnerable to anyone again.

In the end, his exhaustion won out and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the Vulcan lulled him into quiet slumber.

When he woke again, it was to the sound of Bones' voice. The Doctor was trying, but failing, to whisper. "...were eavesdropping? Geez, Spock, I told you to stop pryin' into things ya aren't involved in. This isn't some game-"

Jim shifted, brows furrowing. What was going on?

"It is my Father we are talking about. I have a right to know what is-... I believe James has awoken."

"Huh, well, at least yer not the only eavesdropper in this palace," Bones grumbled.

Jim sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "S'not my fault you can't whisper to save your life, Bones. So, what were you two being so secretive about?"

"Nothing of importance," Spock stood, tugging at the hem of his tunic to straighten out the wrinkles. "Since my services are no longer needed I shall take my leave. Good day, Leonard. James."

As soon as Spock was out the door, Jim snorted. "How can you be friends with him? Seriously, he's got a stick up his ass 24/7."

"Just like ya seem to be a little bigoted," Bones quipped and tilted Jim's head up to shine a small light into his eyes. "Can't ya at least try to get along with him? I know he's not easy to talk to sometimes, but he's not a bad person. Ya could at least make an effort."

With another snort, Jim turned his head away, escaping the grip Bones' had on his chin. "Right. Can I go?"

A heavy sigh escaped Bones' throat. "Yeah, get goin'. But take it easy today, yeah? No stupid stunts, no running around, no-"

"No having fun, I got it, Mommy," Jim grins and jumps off the bed, swaying for a short moment when the blood rushes to his feet but quickly righting himself again.

He did not want to alarm Bones and spent another five hours in sickbay just because he got a little dizzy.

Bones rolled his eyes. "Considerin' that your perception of 'fun' always seems to end in you ending up in sickbay, I'd rather you would just sit yer ass down somewhere and _stay_ seated for at least a few hours so I could relax a little. By the way, Jo-Jo got kidnapped by A-... Lady T'Pala, meaning, ya won't have to worry about her lessons today. They usually get into some kind of mischief and aren't seen until the evening."

Jim laughed. Lady T'Pala appeared to be very different from what Jim had come to know as the standard Vulcan. "If Joanna keeps getting kidnapped I won't have to worry about giving her language lessons ever again it seems!"

"Well, she's very popular," Bones smirked. "Now, are you goin' to leave or...?"

Time to escape then, he did not want to risk getting a hypo. Bones could be incredibly sneaky with those.

"Bye, Bones!" he scampered off, out of the medical bay and towards the kitchen.

He was hungry and as he passed the large chronometer above the door to the dining-room, he realised that he had been in sickbay for almost seven hours. It was now around two in the afternoon. Hoping that Gaila would be kind enough to cook him some late lunch, he pushed the kitchen-doors open and peeked inside. "Gaila?"

She looked up from where she was arguing with one of the other cooks. "Yes...? _Oh_! Jimmy! Come in, come in, you must be starving!"

Jim stepped into the kitchen and walked towards where the Orion stood, holding a plate out towards him, filled with noodles and topped with a sauce made from plomeek roots and various spices. The taunting scent urged him to reach out and after realising that there were no chairs present, he hopped onto one of the counters to eat.

"So, what did I miss?" Jim asked between forkfuls of delicious food.

"Nothing much. After Jo-Jo had her nap, Lady T'Pala picked her up and I haven't seen the two since then. The Queen is a little... odd, isn't she?" Gaila reached out and wiped at Jim's nose. "You're a messy eater, worse than Jo! And you wonder why I call you 'baby'."

Jim pouted. "Not true."

He finished his meal and thanked the young man who took away his plate. Gaila sighed and set her arms akimbo. "Well, well. You're fed and now it's time for little Jimmy to leave again, I have to prepare the lunch for the other servants too, so, off and away with you!"

With a groan, Jim slid off his perch and hastily made his way out of the kitchen. When he reached the living-room, he walked towards the one of the fauteuils to sit. A low sob reached his ears and he frowned, directing his gaze towards the table near the window-panes.

Pavel was curled up underneath the table, arms wrapped around his shins as he cried softly. Jim felt a cold chill crawl up his spine. He bolted towards the boy, falling to his knees to crawl towards him, causing the Russian to startle and look up fearfully.

A fresh bruise marred his jaw, turning the skin blackish blue, his split lip bleed sluggishly and his nose was red from crying. "J-J-Jim?"

"Hey...," Jim tugged carefully at his arms, pulling him closer to examine the younger boy's face. "They got you again, huh? Dammit, Pav, we have to tell someone about this."

"N-No!" Pavel shook his head. "I-i-if they f-f-find out th-that I t-t-talked to sss...someone about th-this, i-i-it's only g-going to g-get w-worse!"

Jim bit his lip. Who was he to tell the boy what would be best for him? He had not been any better. He had kept quiet about Frank's abuse too, since the day Winona had refused to listen to her own son, believing him to be a liar. But he would not let Pavel end up like him; bitter and unable to trust. "Pav, listen. I won't let them hurt you again and I'm sure that the King won't tolerate this kind of behaviour from his own Guards."

"B-b-but w-why would h-he care a-a-about...," Pavel hiccupped roughly; it sounded painful and Jim winced when the boy began to cough.

Jim waited patiently until Pavel had calmed down and then proceeded to speak. "Look, I'm not saying the Vulcan's are the good guys now. But Lady T'Pala isn't a bad person and the King got me outta the brothel I got sold to. And... and.. the Prince may be a stuck-up prick, but he's less of a jerk than I thought. I guess what I'm trying to say is, we _have_ to get help, Pavel, and they are the only ones' who can actually change something about this crap you're forced to go through. Now... do you trust me when I say that I won't let you get hurt again if I can prevent it?"

Pavel's lip quivered and he leaned forward to bury his face in Jim's shirt. "I...I t-t-trust you."

"Good. Then let's get you cleaned up and then we're going to search for someone who can help us."

He helped Pavel stand as soon as they had gotten out from underneath the table, letting the boy cling to him as they made their way towards sickbay.

Hopefully, Bones would not be too mad at him for returning so quickly.

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><p>Must... stop... hurting... Pavel... Also... Jellyfish.<p> 


	11. Chapter 10: Dog Days Are Over

Heeey, guys! I finally finished it!

This thing was really hard to write. *dies*

Talltree-san: Your review made me laugh so hard, it was embarrassing. :) Everyone was staring at me. Also, you gotta keep out of the gutter for a good while, I think. I'm going super slow... it seems.

bee: I'm so glad you liked my chapters so far :) of course there will be more awkwardness. i love awkwardness.

Hawkette94: I'm being nice, I promise! Ritual dance of love... heh, I like that :) We'll see in due time! There's also a plot going on, after all!

TooLazyToLogIn: Gosh, stop making me blush! *hides*

Kim: More like; Bones pays more attention than others. ;)

Okay, it's unbetaed and since I've been rather distracted by other things while writing, I hope I didn't make too many mistakes. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 10: Dog Days Are Over

After Spock had left sickbay, he had made his way towards the library to, once more, search through the historical books. At the moment, he was seated on the broad windowsill, basking in the sun, as he read.

Tanned fingers plucked the book out of his hands and Spock lifted his head to look at the disturber. Jim was staring at him, looking rather discontented, but there was a faint blush covering his cheeks leaving Spock rather confused about the younger man's intention. "Yes, James, may I help you?"

Jim huffed and sat down beside him. "Yeah, listen. Pavel is getting beat up by some of your Guards. I know I should have told someone earlier, but Pavel said he'd manage and that it wouldn't happen again, when I said so yesterday. Thing is, it happened again. He's in sickbay now to get treated for a slight concussion and two cracked ribs."

Spock felt the muscles in his jaw harden. "Have you acquired the names of those who hurt him?"

"Some guy called Giotto along with whoever was with him at the time," Jim bit out, hands balled into tight fists and shaking with suppressed anger.

Spock inclined his head. "I know Mr. Giotto. He has always been easily... irritated. Ironically, he is the Head of the Security team. I shall speak to him, I do not tolerate this kind of behaviour and I do not doubt that my Father would agree with me."

The younger man nodded and sighed. "Thanks... uhm, are you going to talk to them now...?"

With an affirmative nod, Spock slid off his perch and started towards the door. Jim scrambled after him, stumbling twice, before reaching him. Spock lifted an eyebrow, which caused the younger man to roll his eyes and stick out his tongue at him in a grand display of infantile behaviour.

They walked through the hallways in silence. Spock glanced at the man next to him. His hand clenched as he experienced an illogical bout of muscle memory. For a moment he was able to feel Jim's slightly calloused hand grasping his own, the small palm resting against his skin, the electricity running through his veins, caused by the contact.

It had been an unknown sensation until then, but not intrusive, new, but at the same time, Jim's touch had felt... oddly familiar, comforting. Spock shook his head once to dispel the illogical thoughts accumulating in his brain unwanted.

"You okay?" Jim frowned at him and Spock nodded once. "Oh, alright. Do you even know where those assholes are at the moment?"

"Indeed. Mr. Giotto must be at the front gates now," Spock answered.

Without warning, Jim gave a low snarl and was sprinting down the corridor a moment later. Stunned, Spock forgot to follow the man for 2.3 minutes, merely watching as he disappeared down the next corner. Shaking his head, Spock hastily continued down the hallway, intend on catching up with the Human.

However, Jim was faster than Spock had thought he would be. He had already left the palace through the front door, leaving the left wing of the large door slightly ajar. A strange, unpleasant feeling spread through Spock's stomach and when his sensitive ears registered Jim's voice shouting obscenities, he instinctively started to run towards the noise, hoping, that the younger man had not done something incredibly foolish.

"_-you gonna do, kid? Scratch my eyes out?_"

"_Shut your fucking mouth, I'll not let you hurt Pavel again and if it's the last thing I do!_"

"_How cute, the little Princess wants to protect the tiny Nerd. You know what, Blondie? Maybe you can take the Nerd's place. It's not that much fun to beat him up anyway, he doesn't fight back, you know?_"

"_Fuck you, why are you doing this anyway?_"

"_One gets bored after a while... there's not a lot happening here. We were just having a little fun._"

"_You're disgusting."_

Spock was close enough to see Jim standing in front of Giotto and an Orion named Kooulor. Close enough to see Jim lifting his chin upwards in a show of defiance, before the blond spat into the larger man's face. Giotto's face became purple with anger and Spock could not suppress the gasp when the man grabbed onto Jim's arm. A second later, Jim doubled over the fist that had buried itself in his stomach.

Spock felt anger bubble up inside him. "Mr. Giotto!"

The Guard's head snapped up, mouth hanging open and a look of sheer terror overtook his rough features. "Y-Your Highness."

Spock finally reached Jim and gently helped the younger man to straighten up. Jim gave a pained groan and stumbled against Spock's side. To prevent the blond from falling, Spock wrapped his arm around Jim's slender waist, before he lifted his gaze to glare at the, now almost trembling, Guard. "May I inquire as to what you were attempting to do?"

"The kid spit in my face, Your Highness. I was teaching him a lesson."

"While Mr. Kirk's gesture might have been insulting, it is not a reason for you to resort to violence. Moreover, I will not tolerate your behaviour against Pavel Chekov any longer. If I find out that you hurt him again, I will have you banished from the palace. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Very well. I shall refrain from reporting you to my Father for now, because you are one of our most capable men and in charge of the Security team, but I will do so, if you give me even the smallest reason to believe that you are a danger to those living in the palace," Spock turned his attention back towards Jim, ignoring the stricken look upon Giotto's face. "James, we will return to the palace now. Are you able to walk?"

"Yeah... I think so, damn... that was one hell of a punch," Jim wheezed.

Giotto and the other Guard snickered softly, stopping, when Spock glanced at them sharply. "Gentlemen, I may have said that I will not report you to my Father, but there will be consequences. You will talk to your team about this incident and inform them about what I have told you. I will also assign your position to Mister Sulu for the time being, until I have determined whether or not you are still suitable for being the Head of Security."

Giotto spluttered. "_Sulu_? With all due respect, Sir, the guy spends half of the time in the greenhouse! How would he even have the time to do his work-"

"I am sure he'll manage. After all, you've had the time to do your job and beat the shit out of Pavel all the time, too," Jim snapped, one hand pressed against his stomach still. "Right?"

The Guard scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You should learn to shut your damn mouth, kid, who do you think you are anyway? As far as I know, you're nothing but a whore who got lucky eno-"

Spock was unsure as to what compelled him to react. Maybe it was the sharp intake of breath that simultaneously caused Jim's entire body to stiffen, or the sudden lack of expression that had overtaken the younger man's features. He did not know, but whatever is was, it made Spock let go of Jim and lurch forward with an almost inaudible snarl. With a fluid motion he twisted Giotto around to press him flat onto the ground, two fingers pushing against the man's spine, intend on snapped it, if the Guard so much as moved.

Giotto gave a pained grunt, trying to keep the dirt and grass from entering his mouth. Spock kept his face carefully blank when he addressed the older man. "You will refrain from talking to Mr. Kirk with such disrespect again, Mr. Giotto. He is a member of the palace's staff, just like you and you will treat him the way he deserves to be treated, do you understand?"

Giotto nodded, coughing. "Y-yes, Sir."

Spock nodded curtly and eased off, returning to James' side quickly to save the younger man from falling to the ground in an undignified heap. He scooped Jim up, ignoring the protests and incoherent squeals the younger man issued as he stalked back towards the entrance. With a last glance at the fallen brute, he felt the feeling of accomplishment squeeze into his chest. He quickly suppressed it and entered the palace, not even bothering to close the door. Surely, somebody else would do so eventually.

A few servants halted in their steps to watch them with half-open mouths. After all, it was not every day that the crown Prince decided to march through the halls of the palace while holding a cursing Human in his arms.

"Dammit, you stupid elf! I'm perfectly fine! It was just a measly little punch! Put me down! Put me _down_, I said!" Jim twisted in his grip. "Prince, put me the fuck down, _now_!"

"This 'measly little punch' might have caused internal damage, James. Now stop struggling, I am 3.46 times stronger than you, you will not be able to escape."

"I'm _fine_! I know what internal damage feels li-!" Jim fell silent abruptly, before shaking his head and continuing. "Fine, take me to sickbay, but I'm gonna tell Bones that it's your fault that I got punched!"

"You may do so, if it makes you feel like you have accomplished something, James," Spock did not even react when Jim decided to tug at the necklace which bore the Royal Crest indignantly. "However, I must ask; do you truly think that Leonard will believe you?"

Jim groaned. "No, but I can try, can't I?"

"Of course, I would never forbid you to speak. Even if I were to do so, I believe you would simply ignore my order, would you not?"

Jim snorted with amusement. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

They reached sickbay 3.4 minutes later. Spock gently placed Jim back onto his own feet, stepping away slowly, in case Jim's legs would buckle. However, his concern was unfounded and Jim merely swayed for a short moment, before catching himself again. A smug grin spread across the younger man's face. "See? I told you so."

Upon entering the medical bay, Spock was surprised to find not only Pavel, sitting on a bed and looking rather tired, but also a certain Hikaru Sulu. At least Spock would not have to search for the latter to inform him of his new position. Before Spock could even make another step, Jim clasped a portion of his tunic, holding him effectively back. "Wait."

Jim had spoken quietly, just loud enough for Spock to hear. Confused, Spock lifted an inquiring eyebrow, but the younger man just grinned and jerked his head towards where Sulu was softly talking with Pavel, urging Spock to look at them.

Sulu was gesticulating slightly as he spoke, a grin spreading his lips and his right hand was covering Pavel's without clutching it, as if he was afraid to break the delicate fingers beneath his own. The Russian himself ducked his head, hiding the smile that threatened so show, the gesture so incredibly timid, that it made the boy look even more fragile than he already seemed to be. A faint blush covered both of their faces and whenever their eyes met, they would hastily look away. Curious, they both, very clearly, seemed to find each other attractive. Why did they not act on it instead of choosing to literally 'dance' around the subject?

Human were a truly puzzling species.

Jim cleared his throat and the change that happened was astounding. Pavel's face grew alarmingly pale and Sulu hastily drew his hand away from the boy's.

"Hey, hey, it's only us, no need to panic," Jim said, grinning lazily when he addressed Pavel. "We took care of your problem, Pav."

"Y-y-you did?" the boy stuttered, a hesitant smile forming on his lips.

"Yep. I told that asshole to fuck the hell off if he didn't want me to punch his ugly face in," Jim said, chin lifted.

"Indeed. You then proceeded to spit into Mr. Giotto's face and thus provoked him to deliver a well placed punch to your solar plexus," Spock would have been lying had he denied feeling slightly smug when Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest with an irritated huff, similar to what Joanna would do, if Leonard refused to let her have candy before dinner.

"O-oh, a-are you a... alright, J-Jim?" Pavel's brows were furrowed with concern. "I...I d-d-did not w-want you to... to be in-injured!"

"It's fine, Pav, nothing happened. I'm perfectly capable of avoiding internal damage, I've had enough practise the last years after all," Jim delivered the line with a grim face, the smile icy and closer to a snarl than anything else.

Pavel bit his lip and nodded shyly. "I... th-thank you. N-now... how... did i-i-it go on?"

Jim pouted. "Prince Spock made the idiot shut up and saved the day by transferring his position to Hikaru over there as punishment. He also threatened him to throw him out of the palace if he ever dared to hurt anyone working in the palace again. It was pretty awesome, to be honest. Especially the part where he practically threw him on the floor and had his hand poised at his spine, ready to snap it if he even _tried_ to do something stupid."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Thank you, I believe. Although I would have preferred that it would not have been necessary for me to resort to violence."

"You could have verbally ripped him apart, too, you know?" Jim said, smirking. "I think you wanted to make him suffer a little. Odd, I thought that Vulcans did not engage in such trivial emotions like anger or, dare forbid, triumph. But you were clearly smug after Giotto was reduced to a whimpering little heap, weren't you?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow, but before he could answer, Leonard came out of the office, scowl firmly in place. "Did you get that asshole?"

"We did," Jim answered proudly, then deflated. "Well, Spock did."

"Yes. Jim merely succeeded in becoming injured."

"It was Spock's fault!"

Leonard rolled his eyes and pushed Jim to sit on the corner of Pavel's bed. "Where did he get you?"

"My stomach, but- _hey_!"

"Shut up, kiddo. There are a few vital organs there and I'm not keen on mending any of them if it could have been avoided by ya refraining from being a complete moron."

Unceremoniously, Leonard had yanked Jim's shirt upwards to expose the dark bruise forming on the flat abdomen, just above the young man's navel. Spock watched with interest as Leonard palpated the tender area, drawing hisses and soft curses from James. The doctor ignored Jim easily, working quietly and efficiently. Finally, he declared Jim to be healthy, apart from the bruise, which would on its own within a few days.

Jim grumbled incoherently, tugging his shirt back over his stomach. "Could've told you that too..."

"Shut up, kiddo," Leonard snapped.

"You shut up!"

Spock exhaled slowly. "Leonard, Jim, are you both not old enough to be above such petty arguments?"

Both James and Leonard scoffed, but fell silent at least.

Pavel was giggling quietly behind his hands, eyes wet from tears of mirth and Spock was surprised when Leonard's eyes softened at the sight. He was even more taken aback when the Doctor reached out to ruffle the boy's tangled curls affectionately. Leonard had never been a very tactile person. Of course, he let himself be touched and embraced by whoever felt the need to do so, but he seldom reciprocated and seeing him initiate the contact was even lesser an occurrence.

"Oh, by the way, Spock," Jim turned to look at him, eyes narrowed pensively. "Giotto said something about a... rebellion. On Qo'noS, I think. He said, you wouldn't be ordering him around much longer."

Spock inclined his head. "I... have heard similar news."

Leonard snorted. "_News_? You eavesdropped on yer Father's conversation with the Romulan ambassador!"

Spock felt his ears grow hot. "How I obtained the information is irrelevant, Leonard. Fact is, that there may or may not be some kind of resistance forming among the population of Qo'noS."

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, great. How does that help us again?"

"That is what I was hoping for, Leonard. A sign that they are willing to fight against the authority. To fight for their freedom by themselves," Spock was elated, the meaning behind the information that he had been carrying around within the confines of his brain, finally sinking in.

"Wait, wait, wait," Sulu piped up. "You're the Prince. Shouldn't you be... I don't know... a little concerned about this? I mean, it's your kingdom that's being rebelled against."

Spock looked at Leonard intently. The Doctor nodded and quickly ordered the doors to seal. After all, they could not reveal that the Crown Prince was in favour of democracy instead of monarchy to the entire Palace. There were always people who were intent on revealing a scandal to the press, even here. Especially here.

"Thing is, Spock isn't too keen on being the Prince," Leonard said. "To be frank, he'd rather be a scientist, but that's beside the point. Sulu, I take it ya can keep a secret?"

The Guard nodded in agreement.

"Great. If not, I'm sure we'll find a way to make it look like an accident," the Doctor mumbled, causing Pavel to cringe and scoot away from the bed's edge, as if Leonard would suddenly decide to murder him. An illogical thought, surely. Leonard could be rather frightening to those who did not know him well enough, but he was, essentially, a good person.

"Anyway, Spock's been trying to find a 'logical' way out of this entire slavery-mess. Because, seriously, who hasn't ever thought, 'why would a species that lives a life based on logic be willing to rule a kingdom and allow something illogical like slavery to be legalised'? Exactly. Spock has a theory that this entire thing has its roots in the missing parts within the kingdom's history. Did I get this right?"

Spock inclined his head. "Yes, Leonard."

"So you say that there's a conspiracy going on for... almost two hundred years? That's sounds awfully far-fetched. I mean, is there any sort of proof...?"

"Nothing concrete, it is merely a theory," Spock said quietly. "Due to James' help I have been making progress, but we have yet to find anything remotely helpful."

"Yeah. It's really hard to find anything about Vulcan history," Jim said. "That alone is an indicator that something fishy is going on. Also the fact the historical texts that actually exist are very vague in their phrasing and overly disjointed concerning the chronology of events."

Sulu frowned. "That's odd. Maybe the Temples of Gol have something useful in their library. It's the oldest library on Vulcan after all, right?"

Spock blinked. "I have already searched the library."

"Yeah, but have you searched the library with Jim?" Sulu grinned. "The guy is like a blood hound when it comes to things that should be left alone. May I remind you all of the one time with the flesh-eating orchid that was sealed in the very back of the last greenhouse? There was even a sign that read 'Keep Out'. I must know, I was the one who put it there. And I believe Dr. McCoy clearly remembers the incident too, by the looks of it. What was it Jim...? Four broken ribs and severe poisoning?"

Jim laughed. "Shut up, Karu, I was curious, alright? How should I have known that you've been breeding a biological weapon back there?"

Sulu grinned. "I think I made my point."

"Indeed. I believe your idea has merit, Mr. Sulu."

"So... does that mean I get to actually leave the Palace for a while? Awesome!"

* * *

><p>Uuuuh... scary Spock. Scary.<p> 


	12. Chapter 11: Stripped

Ooooh, damn. This thing gave me such a hard time!

I'm sorry for taking so long to update. Gosh...

Talltree-san: That comment... it was too epic... I don't even-... hahaaaa.

Adrianna: Growly!Spock is the best kind of Spock :)

Okay, I finished this chapter today. It's three in the morning. I apologise if it's riddled with incoherent sentences, I might have fallen asleep while typing two or three times. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 11: Stripped

"No!"

"Jo, you will do your grammar exercises while I'm gone or I will tell Gaila that she is forbidden to give you any kind of sweets for two weeks."

The little girl gasped, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. "_No_!"

Jim knelt down in front of the child, taking her tiny hands into his own. "Listen, let's make a deal. You do your grammar exercises and I'll ask Gaila to make you some _prusah kisan_. What do you say?"

Joanna sniffled then nodded. "Okay."

He grinned and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, Princess. We'll be back soon, alright?"

Another nod and an indignant huff were his answer, before Joanna stomped away towards the kitchen, probably to whine to Gaila about how mean he was and if she would truly not give her any sweets if she did not do her exercises. Shaking his head Jim stood, turning to see Spock looking at him, eyebrow raised slightly and Jim was sure that there was a hint of amusement lingering in the corners of the Vulcan's straight mouth.

Jim rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Well, don't you have to call your chauffeur or something?"

Spock shook his head once. "No."

"I've heard that word way too often in the past fifteen minutes," Jim grumbled and hastily stumbled after the Vulcan, who had simply started to walk towards the large doors leading outside.

About five minutes later, Jim was sitting in a sleek, black hovercar, back pressed into the soft, synthetic leather of the seat and eyes wide as Spock drove through the seemingly endless street leading through the desert that was Vulcan.

"I didn't even know you _could_ drive," Jim finally stated after he had managed to right his thoughts. "Why would the _Prince_ feel the need to learn how to drive a car? I mean, you get everything handed to you on a silver platter, why would you... I don't get it."

"Contrary to popular believe, James, I do enjoy doing things on my own. Driving is... relaxing to me," Spock said, turning the car smoothly around another sharp curve. "Additionally, it is easier to leave the city in this car without immediately alarming the press."

"Yeah, because this car is _very_ subtle," Jim murmured, folding his arms across his chest and turning his head to stare out of the tinted window.

Spock did not answer. Silence settled above them, permeating the car with unease. Jim leaned over to turn on the radio, slightly surprised when the first strumming notes of an e-guitar filtered through the speakers. Well, at least the Vulcan had good taste in music. He had been a little afraid that he would have to spend the rest of the car-ride listening to lyres and a choir chanting ancient Vulcan texts.

With a soft sigh, Jim dropped his head against the headrest.

"I believe this car is far more subtle than the limousine my Father uses," Spock said suddenly. "Do you not agree?"

Jim turned his head to look at him, brows arched with incredulity, before he grinned. "True."

Again, it was quiet within the car, but this time, it was not as uncomfortable as before. Finally, after four hours of driving through the desert and passing various smaller towns that were probably nameless, the Temples of Gol came into view.

Jim's mouth opened at the sight of the large buildings, seemingly sprouting out of the rocks they were standing on, towering above the narrow street. Spock parked the car near the entry-way to the stairs and Jim barely got the safety-belt open, before he was running towards the giant slabs leading up towards the Temple.

The air around him was sweltering and Jim was glad that Gaila had made him wear the heavy, beige robe. He was sure that his skin would have been burnt off within seconds otherwise.

Reaching the large, open doors of the Temple, Jim froze, suddenly feeling intimidated. Spock strode past Jim, confident as ever, head held high, the black robe flapping heavily behind him. "Follow me, James and stay close. The Temples of Gol are usually not to be entered by... servants."

The Prince had hesitated upon the last word, a slight frown marring his usually so stoic face and for a moment, Jim was almost sure that it was disgust that he could see in the Vulcan's eyes. The expression vanished as soon as it had appeared and Jim quickly followed Spock into the large entry hall. Their footsteps were almost obscenely loud in the silence that greeted them

An elderly Vulcan walked briskly towards them, slowing when he seemed to recognise Spock. "Your Highness."

Spock inclined his head respectfully. "Greetings, Torrark."

"It is unusual for you to bring someone with you," the old Vulcan said, casting a quick look at Jim that, even though Vulcans' prided themselves with lacking any kind of 'illogical emotion', the disapproval in the elder's black eyes. "He is not one of us."

Jim watched as Spock's posture changed. The Prince back straightened a little more, his shoulders tensed and he lifted his chin marginally in a quiet display of defiance. "That is of no consequence. Mr. Kirk is far more qualified in translating various languages than I am. Therefore, I found it only logical to ask him to accompany me."

"Of course, Your Highness," Torrark said. "May I inquire as to what you are searching for?"

"I merely wish to see what I can find about Vulcan history, that is all," Spock answered. "As I have been here before I will not require your help this time, Torrark, you may return to your former activities."

Torrark bowed and left, but not without a parting glance towards Jim.

When he was sure that the old Vulcan was out of hearing range, Jim let out an annoyed little huff. "Geez, could he have been any more obvious about how he did _not_ like my presence here?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow, but did not answer. Instead, he started to walk towards the large, winged, open door on the right side.

Jim had already seen the library at the palace and thought it was big. But this one... it was enormous. Endless rows of books displayed themselves before him. He stumbled forward, entranced by what he saw, drawn in by the thousands of written works from all over the galaxy. It was like he was five again, seeing the _Perseids_ for the first time in his life, transfixed by the amount of falling stars and absolutely ecstatic about sharing the experience with his older brother. For a moment, his elevation faded, the thought of Sam leaving a bitter taste within his mouth and a numb feeling in his chest.

"James?" Spock's voice, although not raised in any sort of way, echoed throughout the library, amplified by the structure of the room.

"Y-yes?" Jim answered, walking towards the Vulcan, who was already browsing through the books filed under the section labelled 'Vulcan History'.

"Although I understand your fascination, I would appreciate if you would use it more constructively instead of walking around aimlessly," the Prince stepped off the ladder, three books balanced in his arms, eyes meeting Jim's as soon as he had reached the ground. "Feel free to take any book you might find helpful."

Jim watched as Spock brushed past him, walking towards the large, wooden table standing near a corner, surrounded by high-backed, cushioned seats. Breathing out a heavy sigh, Jim stepped onto the ladder to browse through the old texts. Hundreds of books depicting the evolution of the planet and its inhabitants, a trilogy named 'The History of Medicine', tales about the first space travellers and many more. Jim found it exceedingly difficult to keep his mind focussed on what he was searching for, everything sounded ridiculously interesting and the worn spines of the books seemed to call out to him as he slid his fingers over them.

Finally, Jim had gathered about eight books in his arms and was now having a hard time getting down the ladder. On the last step his foot slipped, causing him to land on his behind with an odd, pained shriek. Somehow, he had managed not to drop any of the books, clutching them tightly to his chest as he groaned.

"James, have you injured yourself?"

Jim got to his feet clumsily, hindered by the heavy load in his arms. "No, I'm fine."

He walked towards Spock, dropping the books onto the table. The Vulcan looked up, raising a disapproving eyebrow, which went ignored by Jim, as he sat down, opening the first book.

Three hours later they had worked through almost all of the books and had come up with absolutely nothing. It was beyond frustrating. Jim closed the book he had been reading in and leaned back in his chair with a groan. Apparently, if Vulcans did not want the galaxy to find out about something, they did everything in their power to prevent even the tiniest morsel of information from leaking out.

Jim sat up again, causing Spock to jolt. "Does the library have an archive?"

The Prince nodded once. "Indeed. However, only the Elders and the King are allowed to enter it."

To hear this should have made him curse, but it only confirmed that there was something down there, that no one was supposed to know about. "We need to get in there. I'm guessing this entire building is packed with security measures, right?"

"Yes. The archives' locks are controlled by the main-computer which is located on the uppermost floor. It is heavily guarded and I do not think we will be able to reach it," Spock spoke quietly, leaning across the table, clearly intrigued by what Jim was saying.

"The front desk had a computer panel on it. It's linked with the main computer unit, right?" Jim watched as Spock's eyes widened and could not help the grin spreading on his lips. "I could hack into the system using the computer panel and deactivate the locks to the archive."

"Are you suggesting to hack into the most complicated computer system that exists upon Vulcan and, possibly, in this galaxy?"

"My, my, are all Vulcans megalomaniacs? Yes, yes that's exactly what I'm suggesting, Your Highness," Jim rested his elbows on the wooden surface in front of him. "I'm going to need your help, though. I'm guessing you're good with computers, right?"

"My skills are adequate enough to assist you. You seem very confident in your abilities of hacking, James. May I inquire as to why?"

"I'm just a really nosy person," Jim grinned and stood. "Alright. We need to get the watch dog away from the front desk. Any ideas?"

Spock's brows furrowed slightly. "I may be able to distract him, but you will be on your own then. Is this acceptable?"

"Perfect," Jim grinned. "How much time can you give me?"

This whole thing began to feel more and more like one of those old espionage movies. Jim felt the familiar thrill run through his body; his left leg was bouncing with suppressed energy. His grin widened when he saw the Prince's lips quirk upwards into a faint, barely there smirk. "Fifteen minutes, any longer would be suspicious. Is this sufficient?"

"More than," Jim said. "Now, how do I get to the archives?"

The lengthy directions that Spock rattled out were quickly filed away in Jim's brain and he nodded at the Prince, still smiling like a maniac. Spock inclined his head and walked out of the room into the front hall. Jim waited, counting to thirty in his head, before he made his way out. The hall was empty and Jim hastily crossed the space between the front desk and himself. His fingers flew across the keyboard as his brain picked up speed; working through the coding faster than his fingers could type, cracking passwords and breaking down firewalls while the adrenaline pumped through his veins.

Seven minutes later, he had reached the core and, while breathing out a steadying sigh, he pressed _enter_ to deactivate the locks in the entire building. He made his way towards the archives, breaking out in a run half-way there.

Why these kinds of things always had to be in a freaking cellar, he did not know. Actually, he did know, it was to keep the sunlight from destroying the ancient papers, but still... it was a little unnerving.

Jim entered the archives through a large, heavy metal door and had to keep himself from openly gaping at the sheer abundance of stored books and the myriads of labelled boxes containing loose documents. Now, where would one place the lost history of the Vulcan wars...? For two minutes, Jim raced through the large room, trying to locate - _aha_!

A small box labelled _2027-2055_ sat on the uppermost row of one of the shelves. Jim jumped, trying to reach it and gave up with a huff. He scanned the area, eyes zeroing in on a small stool standing in a corner.

A second later, he had the box. Carefully, he sat it down on the ground, before he pushed another one into the empty space it had left behind, piling a few books on top. Satisfied with his work, he gathered the box, which hopefully contained some sort of information, up into his arms and left the archives, slamming the door behind him and hurrying back upstairs.

Apparently, somebody had noticed that the locks had been overridden and Jim bit his lower lip as he scampered through the corridors, trying to reach the front hall without anyone noticing the box.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Jim let out a yelp, whirling around to face his attacker. Spock stared down at him, eyebrows lifted and the left corner of his mouth twitching. "Come, we have to leave."

"How, they're gonna notice something's up for sure. Besides that, box is a little hard to hide, Your Highness."

Spock swiftly grabbed the offending object, opening it and pulling its contents out. He shoved two thick portfolios at Jim. "Hide them underneath your robe and then hunch over. You will pretend to have become ill. Do not speak, I shall handle the situation."

Jim blinked, before complying with Spock's order. What other choice did he have?

As soon as the documents where secure beneath his robe, he curled forward, wrapping his arms around himself and was slightly shocked, when Spock's arm draped itself around him, pulling him against the Vulcan's side. When he turned his head, he found the empty box crushed into a tiny ball residing in Spock's fist. Right, he would remember this for the next time he decided to try and piss the Vulcan off.

They started to walk, slowly. They had made it to the front hall and Jim already saw the sunlight spilling in through the open door, when Torrark stepped into their field of vision. "Your Highness! I have been searching for you. Someone seems to have deactivated our entire system, we are highly concerned-"

Spock straightened, lifting his head and Jim was surprised when it caused the older Vulcan to fall silent. "It might have been another tremor that caused the systems to short circuit. It has happened quite often in the past year. It does not do one well to be so... paranoid. After all, you have nothing to hide, correct?"

Jim had to stifle a laugh at the old Vulcan's not-so-subtly baffled expression and transformed into a rough, maybe a little exaggerated coughing fit.

"Your... _assistant_ appears to be ill, Your Highness," Torrark said and, damn, Jim had never wanted to strangle someone that badly before.

"Indeed, I was on my way out. I need to take him back to the palace where he can be seen to by a doctor," Spock said, voice calm and regal.

It made Jim shiver slightly. He coughed again.

"Ah, yes, of course," Torrark hastily got out of their way.

Spock led Jim out of the library, down the steps and towards the car. As soon as Jim was seated, he let out a triumphant yell. The Vulcan beside him lifted an eyebrow, letting the crumbled box drop onto Jim's lap, before starting the car. "Even though the way you decided to express your joy is rather primitive and reminds me of the shrieking of a Terran predator bird, I agree that this was a most satisfactory turn of events."

"Do you always have to talk like that?" Jim sighed, pulling the portfolios out of their hiding place, while Spock drove the car back towards Shi'kahr. "These are going to take forever to look through... it's written in the old Vulcan script, they're really hard to interpret."

Spock glanced at the documents. "Indeed. But we have time and I have great faith in your linguistic abilities."

"Good to know," Jim said, feeling flattered.

"Your thespian abilities however-"

"Oh, do shut up, Your Highness."

They drove in silence for a while. The sun was already sinking, lowering itself towards the horizon, the sky turning a darker blue where the rays were no longer able to lighten it, before it bled out into faint rosé and bright orange. Jim frowned when the car came to a stop suddenly. He turned his head to look at the Prince. "Why did you halt?"

"I wish to show you something," Spock said and got out of the hovercar.

Jim placed the documents beneath his seat and stumbled after the Vulcan. He followed him towards a large rock-formation, frowning when Spock vanished within one of the large, round holes leading into the rocks. Did that Vulcan go crazy somewhere between getting out of the library and driving here? Jim followed the Prince slowly.

Spock had waited for him at the entrance and started to walk again, as soon as Jim had stepped into the cave. The Vulcan kept a fast pace, long legs striding confidentially through the wide tunnel, while Jim had to jog to keep up with the taller man. Light filtered through various holes in the cave's ceiling, for which Jim was immensely grateful. Getting lost in a pitch-black cave was not how he would want this trip to end.

"Your Highness, could you please tell me what we're doing in here?" Jim finally asked, exasperated. "Where are we going anyway? I mean, you could at least tell me if you want to murder me now that you have your documents and don't need me anymore-"

"We have arrived," Spock said, voice echoing and Jim blinked when he found himself in a large, cathedral-like cave, brightened by the sunlight spilling in from the holes in the walls. A pool of water sat in its middle and the entire area seemed to sparkle.

The rocks were covered with crystals, glistening and glowing, not only from the sunlight, but they seemed to possess a form of luminescence, tinting the reddish brown surface surrounding them into various shades of aqua blue and emerald green, broken only by the golden light of the sun.

Jim stepped farther into the cave, mouth opened in amazement, his eyes ghosting over the multicoloured light spectacle surrounding him. He had never seen anything like this before. It was almost as if he had walked into one of his old fantasy books, all that was missing was a mermaid brushing her hair by the water now.

He turned around to look at Spock, finding the Vulcan staring back at him. Dark eyes twinkled in the luminescent atmosphere; the Prince's black hair was flecked with gold, green and blue, the crystals glowing brighter with every passing second, while the sunlight got dimmer and dimmer. There was something in Spock's warm, brown orbs that drew Jim in, kept his eyes locked on the Vulcan's and refused to let him go. He felt like a moth circling a flame, mesmerized by the light but afraid to get burned when coming too close.

Suddenly, the moment was gone and Jim stared down at his feet, feeling incredibly flustered. "Uh... uhm. Thank you... for-... for showing me this place. It's... beautiful. But, why exactly did you show it to me..?"

"I wished for you to see it," Spock said quietly, before suddenly straightening up, his voice returning to its usual monotone rhythm. "We should return to the car. Joanna will be very upset with us if we return too late."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Let's get going," Jim grinned, trying hard to diffuse the awkwardness that had build up between them. "After you, Your Highness."

They walked in silence, Jim wondering what had happened back in the crystal cave all the way back to the car. Once they had entered the car, Jim curled up in his seat, feeling exhausted and tired. Keeping his face turned towards the window as he closed his eyes to sleep.

* * *

><p>Yes. I don't really know what just happened. I need some sleep...<p> 


	13. Chapter 12: One Vision

Alright, after a few Not-Good Days and a tiny crisis, I finally finished this chapter :)

[The 'Never-ending Story' belongs to the late Michael Ende and not me. Thank you very much :D]

Kim: Knitting in your sleep? Wow! That's really something. Spock getting a clue... hmm... subconsciously, perhaps...?

Talltree-san: Haha, comparing Jim to a dog! Awesome :) Oh dear, how cute, candle-light dinner in the Glowing Caves? We'll see, we'll see ;) Don't be too hard on your brain, you need it!

Alrightey. Unbetaed, as usual :) Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 12: One Vision

3.1 weeks later, they were still working idly on translating the documents. While they were both capable of reading Old Vulcan, it was still quite difficult to interpret the outdated words and colourful descriptions that differed greatly from the cool, precise style of Modern Vulcan. Jim seemed to fare marginally better than Spock, which was not very surprising, considering that Humans seemed to be far more adept at thinking 'outside the box'.

They had grown closer in the time they spent together. Jim had been less and less inclined to utter scathing remarks about Vulcans towards Spock after the incident in the _suk-tauk min-tor_, the Glowing Caves, and Spock was slowly becoming used to avoid certain subjects that would cause Jim to retreat back into his old, defensive habits. They had somehow developed awareness for each other; reducing their constant arguments into something Leonard called 'banter'.

Needless to say, Leonard had not been pleased when they returned late at night and even less when Jim told him what they had done to acquire the documents. In the end, not only Jim was the proud owner of a new nickname, but also Spock. 'Green-blooded hobgoblin' and 'reckless, pointy-eared bastard' were only two of the many, rather colourful phrases that the good doctor had uttered at him.

Currently, they were sprawling on Spock's bed, documents spread out around them. Jim had insisted on listening to music while working, which was why the room was filled with the songs of an old, earthen band called '_Queen_'. Spock's Mother had given him her entire collection of music, secretly of course, and he had instantly taken a liking to the exotic sounds of e-guitars, basses and drums.

When Spock had turned the music on, Jim had emitted an excited squeak, before turning a baffled gaze at him, clearly wondering why Spock was listening to Terran bands that had been popular over two hundred years ago. Spock had simply shrugged and continued to translate his share of the documents, ignoring the clearly annoyed huff.

Jim quietly hummed along 'Bicycle Race', idly biting the first knuckle of his index finger, while his eyes flitted across the page lying in front of him. Spock watched him for a few moments, cataloguing the way the tendons in his neck strained whenever he tilted his head to the side and how his eyes would narrow when he was trying to work out the next puzzling sentence.

"Hey... Prince, could you take a look at this?" Jim tapped two fingers against Spock's knee once. "Here... right where the General documents his retreat from _Qo'noS _in summer 2051... _We have lost many brave soldiers, too many to continue our mission. We shall return home, in hopes to come back here, stronger than before and able to triumph over our enemies._ Now, this is where the overtaking of the Romulan Empire starts. Apparently, even though they were so diminished in number, they managed to overtake the Romulans who are now the strongest unit of the Vulcan military. This makes absolutely no sense at all; if they could defeat the Romulans, why not the Klingons?"

Spock furrowed his brows, leaning closer to look at the document. "Indeed. This is most peculiar."

"Also, I found this...," Jim's forefinger tapped onto a tiny note written into the left, lower corner of the paper.

_December the 3__rd__ 2052_

"It's written almost on every page I've read through. Something significant happened on that day. What I don't quite get is why it's written in English. Why would someone do that?"

"Perhaps there have been others before us who tried to solve this mystery," Spock mused.

"Yeah, but, how would a human gain access to this documents? That sounds even more unlikely than the Vulcans winning the fight against the Romulan Empire."

"Why do you believe the one writing this was Human?"

"Well, it's written in English, isn't it?"

"It may have merely been an attempt at confusing those who might read the notes without permission," Spock lifted a shoulder and let it drop again.

Jim hummed thoughtfully. "We don't even know when the notes were written. The way the ink soaked the paper makes me think that it was either written on a later date than the original text or the pen it was written with was not made to be used on this kind of material since the paper reacted so differently to it. Also, the bluish colour reminds me of the ink pens on Earth. So... assuming my theory is correct and it was a Human who wrote this... then they needed an accomplice who helped them gain access to the documents. A Vulcan accomplice."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "That would be a fascinating coincidence."

"Yeah," Jim said, snickering quietly. "Anyway... do you think we might find more information about the third December 2052 in the Romulan databases?"

"Romulans barely document their history. It is given to the next generation verbally and I do not believe we will find a Romulan who is willing or able to tell us what has happened on this particular day," Spock watched Jim deflate and could not help feeling responsible for the younger man's disappointment.

"So we're stuck. Again," Jim murmured, before letting his head drop onto the mound of pages in front of him with a soft groan. "Fuck..."

"I believe we are to take a break, Jim. You are obviously fatigued."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," the blond yawned.

Spreading his arms out in front of him, he groaned as he stretched, muscles trembling, before he seemingly collapsed with an obscene, high-pitched sigh. Spock raised both eyebrows. "Are you always this vocal, no matter the situation?"

"Aw, shut up, Your Highness," Jim snorted, pushing the documents away from him to curl up on his side. "'m gonna take a nap, wake me in two hours."

And thus, Jim had fallen asleep. On Spock's bed, knees drawn up enough for it to seem uncomfortable, arms pressed against his chest and once more, Spock was uncomfortably aware of how fragile the young man truly was. Of course, Jim possessed the lithe muscles of a runner and he was by no means helpless. Spock remembered the incident with one of the guards touching Jim's behind without permission and daring to smirk once the younger man had turned around, hissing like a furious sehlat. The poor man had had to spend twenty minutes in sickbay to get both his nose and his jaw mended.

No, Jim was certainly capable of taking care of himself. But there was this odd, brittle delicacy about him that Spock had noticed the first time he had met the younger man.

Spock slipped off the bed, walking over towards the meditation mat lying near the glass door leading out onto the balcony, quietly ordering the radio to turn off. Half an hour of meditating would certainly do him good.

He sat down, back straight and shoulders relaxed, closing his eyes as he breathed out slowly.

Steadily he detached himself from the outside world, sinking...

..._he breathed in water, his eyes opening in shock as the coolness slid down his throat and filled his lungs. Stars and planets whirled through the darkness around him and he was pulled down further. His limbs were numb; his chest was tight, filling with fluid, tearing at his seams. _

_His lids fell shut as he ripped apart, mingling with the blackness around him for a moment. _

_When his eyes opened once more he was sitting on a wooden bench in the middle of a beach, covered in black stones, the water lapping at his feet as the tide rose. Spock blinked at the cool liquid swamping his toes with algae and mud before it sloshed backwards again, only to return a second later. _

_He stood upon registering the bells ringing in the distance, gaze darting across the landscape, registering several doors, some opened, some closed. _

_One of them, a plain, unassuming thing, was compelling him to come nearer. The ringing became louder as he made his way towards the door. He reached out, cautiously, hand wrapping around the doorknob, the metal neither warm nor cold. It opened easily and Spock furrowed his brows when he found a starry sky twinkling back at him, two moons circling each other, feet stepping into cool water and sinking into the soft sand beneath. _

_A faint glow in the distance had him staggering forward, eyes fixated on the golden shine. _

_The water around him seemed to whisper, crawling up his legs, seeping into his clothes, weighing them down, slowing his gait. _

_In the end he was crawling on all fours, jaws clenched as he pulled himself onto a podium. Soft grass covered it and the bells he had heard were tiny, glowing pearls, clinking together with every gust of wind. He blinked, the growing plant felt... familiar. _

_Like he had seen it before. _

_Spock reached out, touching one of the pearls. Had he not planted a pearl not too long ago? _

_Apparently, the pearl had sprouted a steadily growing sapling, proving once more, that Spock's mindscape was not as logical as he wanted it to be. _

_The mossy grass beneath him seemed to swallow him, cradling him like a child and he let himself be dragged down..._

His eyes snapped open, focusing on the wall in front of him. Jim's soft breathing was the only sound in the room, slow and steady. Spock's inner clock told him that 26.5 minutes had gone by since he had sat down on the mat.

How strange. Usually, his meditation sessions were different, less strenuous and his mindscape had never been this capricious...

A thought made him stand, too early, his muscles still not quite connected to his brain, causing him to stumble and knock over two of his unlit, scented candles. Wincing, he glanced towards Jim, finding the blond still fast asleep; arms wrapped around one of Spock's pillows and face buried in the blue fabric. Satisfied, Spock shuffled to sit in front of his computer, activating the screen and pulling the keyboard closer towards him.

17.45 minutes later he had contacted the head of the databases on Earth, after raising various traps that would activate if anyone tried to retrace his signal. For security reasons almost every major step a citizen did down on Earth was documented, including things like the first holiday abroad and moving to different locations entirely. He might be able to find out Jim's brother's last whereabouts. As he worked on forwarding his plea, he kept looking at Jim, to assure himself that the younger man had not been woken by his typing.

Finally he received a confirmation that the requested documents would be searched for and he leaned back feeling rather pleased with himself. He might just be able to give Jim a chance on asking his brother what had happened after he had been sold.

Knowing that it would take several hours until he would receive the information about Sam Kirk, Spock turned off his computer. Automatically, his eyes darted back towards Jim's sleeping form. Only now he noticed the dark shadows beneath the man's eyes, the tiny crease between his brows and the tense lines surrounding Jim's lids that spoke of many sleepless nights.

Three timid knocks resounded through the silence.

Spock stood, walking towards the door to unlock it. Joanna stood in front of him, head tilted up to smile at him brightly, a large bowl filled with chopped bits of various fruits cradled in her thin arms. "Hey, Spock!"

He knelt down to her level. "Hello, Joanna. I must ask you to be quiet. James has fallen asleep and I do not wish to wake him."

The little girl's eyes widened and she nodded hastily, voice dropping to a whisper when she spoke next. "Okay. Lala said you need food, 'cause you didn't have lunch," she leaned forward slightly, speaking even quieter, "I think she's mad at you for not eatin'."

"I shall apologise to her as soon as I can," Spock gently extracted the bowl from Joanna's hands. "Do you wish to come inside?"

"Yes, Papa's too busy to play with me and Lala said 'm di... disatri...ing... everyone from work," Joanna sounded illogically proud about the last statement.

"The word is 'distracting', Joanna," Spock explained softly, before standing.

Joanna followed him back into the room, gasping when she saw Jim. "He looks like the Princess from Sleeping Beauty, Spock!"

Spock set the bowl of fruits down on his desk, turning to gaze at Jim, lifting an eyebrow. "Do not let James hear you say this, Joanna. I do not believe it will be an appreciated comment."

She blinked, then giggled. "'kay."

"Is there something in particular you wish to do? Of course, something that does not require a lot of noise," Spock tilted his head, looking inquiringly at the girl.

"Can you read to me again?" Joanna asked eagerly, climbing onto the unoccupied side of Spock's bed. "You know the book about that boy..."

Spock inclined his head in affirmation, retrieving the book from the nightstand, before lowering himself onto the bed beside Joanna, scooting back to lean against the headboard. The little girl crawled towards him, settling down near his left hip, eyes wide anticipation.

With a soft sigh he opened the book, flipping the pages until he found the passage where he had stopped the last time and drew in a deep breath.

He did not know how much time had passed as he slid in and out of the vivid descriptions displayed before him, keeping his voice low and steady as he read.

"...the setting sun turned the clouds to liquid gold," _illogical_, "he noticed that his bat was circling over the Labyrinth. That was the name of an enormous garden, extending from horizon to horizon and filled with the most bewitching scents and dream-like colours. Broad avenues and narrow paths-"

A soft murmur interrupted him and he lifted his gaze from the book to see Jim sitting up. "You are awake."

"Yeah. Hey Jo, what are you doing here, Princess?"

The little girl laughed. "Me and Spock are reading a book!"

"Spock and I," Jim corrected. "Which one?"

"'The Never-ending Story'," Spock answered dutifully.

"Seriously?" Jim rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin up on his hands. "Well, continue!"

There was an urge to clear his throat, to dispel the nervousness that had suddenly taken over his body and caused his stomach to knot. However, he refrained from doing so and started to read aloud once more. After all, this was no different from reading to Joanna, was it? "Broad avenues and narrow paths twined their way among copses, lawns and beds of..."

3.4 hours later, Spock stopped. Joanna had fallen asleep 21.3 minutes ago and Jim was, again, yawning. The empty fruit bowl was lying precariously near Jim's foot and Spock wondered when it would finally fall off the edge of the bed.

"Why'd you stop?"

"You are clearly tired, Jim."

"It's not my fault that your voice would be perfect for reading bedtime stories," Jim rubbed his eyes, sighing heavily. "But I guess I should go to bed."

"You may sleep here, I do not require the bed at this time and I am to meet with my Mother in 10.5 minutes. I do not wish for Joanna to wake up alone," Spock closed the book and placed it onto the table beside the bed, before gently manoeuvring Joanna to lie down properly, pulling a blanket over her.

"Uh...," Jim's cheeks flushed a delicate red, confusing Spock. "A-alright. But isn't this a little weird?"

"Why would it be? Joanna is sleeping here too, I do not mind."

"Yeah, but... _you know_," Jim huffed and let his face drop onto the bed sheets, mumbling incoherently into them.

"I cannot hear a word you are saying, James," Spock slipped off the bed, gathering the fruit bowl up to place it somewhere saver than the mattress. "Please, try to rest some more, you are clearly in need of it."

"Yes, Your Highness," Jim mumbled, lifting his head slightly to speak. "Tell the Queen I said 'hi', will you?"

"I shall."

8.4 minutes later, Spock was on his way to the sitting-room, where his Mother wished to talk to him.

Mother was waiting for him, seated on one of the wingback chairs near the large window pane. A barely noticeable smile curled her lips and brought a curious twinkle to her eyes. "Spock, please, sit down."

Raising an eyebrow he lowered himself on the second chair. "What do you wish to speak to me about?"

"Your Father... he has been asked by Soren, T'Pring's Father, to allow T'Pring to live here until the bonding ceremony. He believes it would be beneficial for you both to become accustomed to each other before the wedding to increase familiarity and make the linking of your minds easier for Lady T'Pau," Mother lowered her eyes to her hands, which were lying stiffly on her knees. "I merely wanted to inform you of this. T'Pring will arrive in two weeks."

For a moment, he could not react, his brain functions seemed to have halted in their steps, unable to grasp the information they just had been fed with. In 3.6 months he would be married to a woman he had met barely twice in his life and now she would come to live here?

The illogical question concerning what Joanna would think of this flitted across his mind.

"Why did Father not tell me about this himself?" Spock inquired, keeping his voice carefully even. "Why did he not seek me out to discuss this with me?"

"I... I do not know, Spock," Mother picked at the fabric of her dress where it strained across her kneecaps. "Maybe he did not think it necessary to discuss it with you. After all, you and T'Pring _are to be married_. It is only logical to become acquainted to their betrothed, is it not?"

"Whether T'Pring and I know each other well is of no importance, Mother. My upcoming bonding is merely one of necessity."

Mother breathed out shakily, closing her eyes for 3.4 seconds. "I know, Spock. I am so sorry."

"Being 'sorry' is illogical, Mother. It is not your fault," Spock tapped his forefinger against her knuckles, the way he had done as a child, wishing to show her affection even if his upbringing forbade him to do so.

She chuckled quietly, the mask she wore so naturally to hide her true self cracking. "It's nothing. I wanted you to lead a happy life. A life without limitations. One where you did not need to hide who you are everyday. It pains me to see you sitting here, knowing you will be taking a wife you do not love."

"It is far from ideal, I know," Spock said. "But it cannot be changed now."

Mother took a deep breath, straightening in her seat as she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress, composing herself quickly. "What... what were you doing before you came here? I saw Joanna walking in the direction of your room and James has not been to lunch just like you."

"We are working on a... project, Mother."

She lifted an eyebrow. "A 'project'? I see... I am glad that James and you have become friends. It was becoming rather frustrating to see you hostile towards one another."

"I was not being hostile, Mother. And we are not 'friends'."

Mother smiled, the twinkle returning to her eyes. "Of course, Spock. Of course."

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><p>Because Mother knows best. Yes, I did have a Disney-marathon, why do you ask?<p> 


	14. Chapter 13: Drumming Song

I'm so sorry! I wanted to upload this a lot sooner, I was just really stressed out and had absolutely no time at all!

Kim: Oh dear, if I ever have kids, I need to read this handbook too! :D

Talltree-san: Queen rocks, and 'Don't stop me now' is awesome :) And you're probably right about Jim and Spock's arguments. That's exactly how I imagine those to play out, hehe. I love your reviews btw, they are always hilarious!

Anne: Are you maybe Sherlock Holmes? Close, but not quite ;)

Alrightey, I hope there are not too many errors, enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 13: Drumming Song

Two days later, Jim was seated in the library, alone, every Terran book he could find stacked around him as he flipped through Spock's illustrated copy of _The Never-ending Story_. The last time he had read the book was back on Earth, huddled in the corner of a public library, barely eight years old. He remembered sneaking out of the house in the afternoon to get a few hours of peace, always returning to the tiny, book-filled place that had somehow become his sanctuary.

Spock was currently at the Academy and Jim retreated into the library, after having finished his sessions with Joanna earlier, because the little girl had been too tired to concentrate at all after three hours. Even if a whole hour of those three had transformed into a game of hide-and-seek.

What exactly Spock was doing at the Academy he did not know. Yes, he knew that the Prince must be attending some classes there, but Jim was fairly certain, that none had been scheduled currently, due to Spock's nearing marriage. He would have to ask the Prince when he came back.

Jim huffed out a heavy sigh, rubbing the knuckles of his free hand over his burning, tired eyes.

The edges of the book's pages were worn by years of being flipped, smudges of graphite and colour pencils discoloured the paper. Did Vulcan children even possess something like crayons? Or was this another thing that had been labelled 'illogical'? Either Spock had been a very creative child when he was younger, or this book was not originally in his possession. The latter seemed to be the most likely solution. It was strange how many books from Earth had been accumulated within the library, all of them showing signs of being often-read and well-loved, providing each of them with a sort of character.

Jim let the book fall closed, frowning when, for a split second, he glimpsed something written in the corner of the first page where the book's title was printed again. Curious, he opened it again.

Written in inky blue letters were the English words;

_To Amanda, In Love, Mom._

What the actual fuck?

Did the book not belong to Spock? Had it not belonged to his Mother before that? Who the hell was _Amanda_?

He shook his head, confused and mildly suspicious. Bound books had become rare upon Earth, only a few tiny shops actually sold them anymore and they always cost a fortune, because book printing was an almost extinct practice now. Most families passed on the books they had collected onto the next generation, which must have been the case with this particular copy of _The Never-ending Story_. However, that did not explain how it ended up on Vulcan in the Royal Palace of all places. Of course, books were sold second-hand, but they were usually restored to their original state, if possible. Removing ink was easy enough, why had no one done so?

Jim frowned. Maybe Amanda was a friend of Lady T'Pala. But why would she give Lady T'Pala a book that was, obviously, something valuable to this Amanda.

Struck by a sudden thought, Jim opened the other books he had collected.

_Happy Birthday, Amanda! Love, Mom and Dad_ was written within the worn copy of _Alice in Wonderland_.

_Congratulations, Amanda, we are proud of you _Jim read in _The Great Gatsby_.

The last book he opened was the ancient copy of _Grimm's Fairy Tales_, still titled _Children's and Household Tales_, indicating that it was indeed _very_ old.

There was a small paragraph written on the endpaper.

_Amanda, this is our most valuable possession. It has been in our family for centuries and I want you to take it with you. My Mother gave it to me when you were born. Maybe, if you and your husband ever decide to have children, you will read it to them. I know we have not been very approving of your marriage, but it is hard to watch their own child fall for, what we thought, was the enemy. But it is even harder to keep hating someone who is so... what do you call it? Adorkable, I think. Your Father and I are sorry for not being here to tell you good-bye properly, but we both cannot bear watching our baby-girl leave._

_We wish Sarek and you the best of luck, _

_Love, Mom and Dad_

Jim gaped down at the words. Within a fraction of a second, his brain kicked into overdrive.

_Queen T'Pala and Amanda are one and the same_.

He leaned back against the cool window-pane, breathing out slowly. Alright. Fine. The Queen was, apparently, a Human named Amanda. His usually very efficient brain decided to do a black flip and splatter on the ground. Why would a _Human_ willingly marry the Vulcan King? How could she live with the knowledge that her husband was the one who was in charge of oppressing the galaxy and thus, Earth? This entire affair was making no sense at all. Maybe he should talk to Lady T'Pala. Or Spock.

But Spock was not here and he did not even know where the Queen was currently at. Heck, he never knew where the Queen was. She was like a ghost, appearing to speak words of wisdom and kindness, before disappearing into whatever corner she hid herself in.

Jim closed the book and placed it back among the others lying beside him.

If he was right and he was fairly certain he was, then he had just discovered a secret big enough to shake the Vulcan kingdom. Probably not as much as the other secret they were trying to discover would, but still.

Spock was half-Vulcan.

Jim suddenly understood what Lady T'Pala – _Amanda_ – meant by saying that Spock was 'unique'.

Well, he certainly was.

He shook his head and slowly started to return the various books to their respected shelves, before making his way out of the library and towards the kitchen. Maybe Gaila had the heart to feed him; he had missed lunch because he had been too caught up with reading. Oh, she would be angry...

"_Where. Have. You. Been_?"

Gaila's face was dark with blood, her entire body tense and her arms akimbo. She was practically foaming at the mouth.

Jim winced, lifting his arms in front of himself in a sort of protective stance. "Sorry, Gaila, I was in the library and-"

"I don't care! You're already too skinny, you promised me to be on time for lunch!" she let out a frustrated snarl and slammed a pan onto the hearth, mashing something together that, in the end, looked a lot like Terran hash browns and smelled like lecho. "I'm sick of getting poked into the side everytime I hug you, I can count your ribs through your shirt!"

"Now, Gaila, you're being-"

"No, sit down, shut up and eat!"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. No need to yell..."

He ate quickly, not wanting to anger Gaila even further. She could curse like a Klingon and her right hook hurt like a bitch. Especially if you do not expect her to sock you in the shoulder for not turning up to eat dinner, like she had done two days ago. It took a few minutes until he had been able to stop whining and actually eat after that.

Jim pulled the fork from his mouth, brows pulled together in thought. "Say... Gaila... if you find out a secret about someone you know... a big secret... would you tell them that you knew?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him questioningly. "Depends on the content of the secret, I guess. Why? What did you do this time, baby?"

"Nothing, I just...," he sighed. "Forget it, you're no help at all.

"Well, _excusez moi_."

"Damn, your French pronunciation sucks, Gaila."

For that, she thwacked him over the head with a wooden spoon. Jim grumbled and shovelled the last bit of the Vulcan equivalent of hash browns into his mouth. Gaila took the plate away and Jim slid off the kitchen-counter. "Thank you for making me lunch, Gaila, I'm really sorry I was late."

"Yeah, yeah...," she kissed his cheek and gave him a gentle shove towards the door. "Get outta here, I have to start dinner."

Jim groaned and trudged out of the kitchen, walking out onto the terrace. He sat down on the warm stone-tiles, leaning his back against one of the chairs, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to expose his face to the sun. He would have to talk with Spock about his Mother. Jim knew how to keep a secret, but he felt as if he was betraying the Prince if he kept his knowledge from him. Which was a rather confusing thought, since he had absolutely no problem with not telling Gaila or anyone else for that matter.

He wondered how many people actually knew about this, apart from the King and Spock. Jim had the nagging feeling that Bones was in on this, most likely, since he was the only Human doctor in this entire palace... then again, the Queen must have gone to a Vulcan doctor before Bones came here so...

This entire affair was giving him a headache.

He groaned and knocked his head against the chair behind him a few times, trying to get his thoughts to change direction.

..._the bells were ringing in his ears, loud and insistent, calling for him_...

Jim's eyes shot open, hands clapping over his ears instinctively. The sound still echoed through him and he realised that it was not a noise he had truly heard, but instead, it had come from somewhere inside his head. Miffed, he rubbed his palm over the shell of his left ear. The bells stopped abruptly and he was left feeling... almost bereft.

The _laras_ above him shrieked and fluttered away from their seats among the trees. Slightly dazed from the soothing warmth of the Vulcan sun, Jim squinted up into the sky. An unmanly squeak escaped his throat when a slender hand touched his shoulder. "Goodness!"

"Sss-sorry!" Pavel stuttered, eyes wide. "D-d-did not m-mean to... to sss... scare y-you."

"It's okay, Pavel...," he smiled reassuringly at the younger male, before grinning widely when he recognised Hikaru standing behind Pavel. "And what are you two love birds doing out here?"

Pavel's face instantly turned red and the Russian buried his head in his hands. Sulu chuckled good naturedly, patting Pavel's curls gently. "Pavel wanted to get some fresh air; we're taking a walk through the garden."

"Oh, well then, have fun you two... and behave."

"J-J-Jim!" Pavel stammered, reaching out to hit Jim's shoulder. "Sss...stop! Y-y-you are ssso m-m-mean!"

"Alright, alright! Sorry, I'm sorry. But seriously, have fun you two."

"Thanks, Jim," Hikaru inclined his head, before taking Pavel's hand and pulling him off towards the thick vegetation that made up the garden of the palace.

Jim decided that he would stay out of that particular area for at least two hours. He had no intention of running into Pavel and Sulu sucking faces. Not that he could even imagine Pavel doing anything like that; the kid was barely scratching the sixteen years mark and got embarrassed by the strangest of things. Sulu, who turned nineteen four months ago, according to Bones, treated Pavel like a raw egg. The last time Jim saw them together, they had been playing puzzle. _Puzzle_. Seriously? Jim understood that Pavel was a little fragile and wary of about everyone and everything, But, judging from the, less-than-subtle, attempts of getting Sulu to kiss him, he seemed to have to problem with letting those he knew well come close.

Hikaru just seemed a little dense in that particular aspect of understanding certain Russians, however.

Getting to his feet, Jim made his way towards the green houses.

It was always delightfully quiet there and he might be able to think through this whole mess. Or maybe he might just... sit down in the conservatory and appreciate the flowers. That was a wonderful plan.

The conservatory was located at the back of the palace and could be entered from the outside through a colourful glass door. The inside was a sea of climbing roses, fanning leaves and curling vines, framing the circular, tiled space in its middle, where a small table and three large basket chairs stood. Jim seated himself in one of the chairs, drawing his legs up onto the pillowed seat. He had to keep an eye on the time, if he missed dinner, Gaila would murder him in cold blood.

The air was heavy with the scent of _dbalillies_, coating his sinuses with chocolate. No wonder the Queen loved them so much, they smelled _delicious_. Jim breathed in deeply, releasing it with a long sigh. The fumes were making him feel drowsy and content, a little like drinking warm milk after a nightmare. He would fall asleep if he stayed much longer...

Jim sat up fully again, planting his feet onto the tiled floor and stood. Instead of taking the coloured door to the garden, he entered the palace through the wooden one, slowly walking back towards the library. At least there he could keep himself from falling asleep by reading. Additionally, there were no addictive chocolate scents clouding his mind. He did not want to imagine what Amanda had been thinking when she planted the hoards of blooming and glowing _dbalillies_ within the conservatory's confined space. Although, now that he thought of it, there were actually windows to let the sticky air out...

Jim huffed out an annoyed breath. Sometimes he could be a downright retard.

The library, as it turned out, was not empty.

Spock was sitting on the same windowsill Jim had been seated on, a PADD firmly clutched in one hand, the other grasping a stylus.

"Your Highness," Jim said, surprised. "You are back."

Spock looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Indeed, I am. I apologise for not informing your myself that I would be gone today."

"It's alright," Jim was suddenly gripped by a bout of overwhelming nervousness. "Prince, I have to speak to you about something."

"I, too, have something to discuss with you, Jim."

Jim furrowed his brows, nodding. He marched over towards the windowsill to sit down across from Spock, crossing his legs underneath him. "I... found something out today. A secret."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, looking mildly interested. "Indeed? Of what content was this... secret?"

"I know about your Mother, Prince."

The Prince stilled, body going rigid and his brown eyes, which had become more expressive around Jim over the past weeks, shuttered once more, leaving nothing but blank slates. "I do not know what you are talking about, Mr. Kirk."

"Stop that, I'm not telling you this because I want to gain anything from it. I just wanted you to know that I'm aware of what is going on."

Spock did not relax, but his eyes thawed. "You would have the chance of informing the press and make a lot of money, Jim."

"I don't care about that. We... we've become friends and friends don't do that to one another," Jim felt his cheeks heat up and he cursed himself for sucking at these kind of speeches. "And I seriously don't care who and what your Mom is. She's a wonderful person and so are you. Well, most of the time. When you're not imitating a living computer, that is."

The left corner of Spock's mouth twitched slightly and the Vulcan-hybrid finally let the tension wash out of his muscles. "Thank you, Jim. Even if your compliments are rather ambivalent."

"Yeah, I'm not good at these kinds of things, I know," Jim laughed. "What did you have to tell me?"

Spock's eyes began to shine with some sort of light as he stood. "Come with me, we need to be somewhere private for what I wish to show you."

Alright, this should not have sounded so dirty and definitely not so damn inviting to Jim's ears. What the hell was he thinking...?

Spock lead them to his room and Jim sat down on the Prince's bed as soon as the door had closed again, looking at the Vulcan-hybrid expectantly. "So? Why are we here?"

The Prince did not answer, instead, he strolled towards his comm. unit. Jim frowned, watching as it was turned on and the bluish screen-light filtered over Spock's sharp profile. A few beeps and resounding clicks later, Spock straightened up and reached out a hand towards Jim. "Come and sit here, Jim."

Warily, Jim made his way towards the chair in front of the comm. unit. A black video-screen greeted him and he furrowed his brows in confusion. The Prince pressed the 'call' button and Jim watched as the screen slowly changed colour, focusing and-

"_Jimmy!_"

Sam was smiling back at him, hair combed and the shirt he was wearing was free of creases. He looked a lot healthier, his cheeks were reddened as if he had been in the cold mere minutes ago and there was snow melting in his dark locks. Jim could do nothing but gape at his older brother.

"S... Sam...," he choked out. "How...?"

"_I don't know! One day, I got a call that the Prince had requested to speak with me. I swear, I've never been so scared in my life... I was really surprised when he turned out to be a pretty nice guy... I would have thought that he'd be more of a stuck-up asshole – no offense, Your Highness – but, yeah, he actually listened to me rant about how awful Vulcans are and whatnot for about an hour before I actually calmed down enough to let him talk. When he told me that you were at the palace and that you were safe I was so relieved... Jimmy, I moved to New York so that I could make enough money to get you out of that brothel and now... look at you! I'm so glad you're alright_...," Sam's voice broke and Jim watched as his brother turned his face to the side, wiping at his eyes clumsily.

Jim swallowed, giggling with hysterical joy, before turning to the side and wrapping his arms around Spock's middle. "Oh, fuck, thank you so much..."

Only a second later, after his cheek had collided with the hard muscle of Spock's abdomen and the Vulcan-hybrid's strong hand touched his shoulder, he realised what he had done. Hastily he released the Prince. "Sorry, fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It is alright, Jim. I understand that Humans sometimes cannot control their... actions when they are emotionally overwhelmed."

"Heh, yeah...," Jim brushed the tears from his chin that has escaped his eyes and directed his attention back to his brother.

Sam was grinning at him, eyes still a little too bright and his brows were furrowed slightly. "You have to tell me everything, Jimmy. Prince Spock said you didn't let anyone come near you at the brothel and you were about to be send to the mines! How did you end up at the palace? Oh! And I have to tell you about Aurelan... you would love her, she's wonderful-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, Sam, one thing after the other. Now, who's Aurelan?"

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><p>Yaiy! Oh, I might upload another One Shot. It's actually a fic I wrote for a friend, but she gave me permission to post it. :) But I'm not sure if I'm brave enough...<p> 


	15. Chapter 14: I Feel Better

Hey guys!

I am proud to present the most useless and weird chapter in the history of Between two Worlds! I love it anyway. Mostly because I love writing silly things :)

Thank you all for the adorable reviews, you are so nice and I really appreciate them. :)

Anyway, since some of you wanted to read the story I wrote for my wonderful friend [yes, Nerdy, I mean you] I have decided to upload it. It happened quite a while ago, but since it's not a "Spock/Kirk" story, but my first "Spock/McCoy/Kirk" it's apparently hard to find. It's called "Distance" and you can find it by simply going to my profile :)

Luna14: Thank you!

Kim: Thank you for waiting then! :) Yes, the bells are important and the question if they mean trouble or not will be answered... soon. I hope.

Hawkeye: I have done so :) I hope you will like it, when you read it.

Adrianna: Yaiy! Here you go!

bee: Stop making me blush :) I'm glad you like my version of Gaila! All men are dense, well... most of them. :D

Talltree-san: Your comment. It's made of so much epic-win, it hurts. :D Don't worry, if Pavel is anything like me, he would hug you around the middle because you're tall. My boyfriend is over a head taller than me and it's awesome :3. And... I think Spock earned a LOT of brownie-points... :D

Anyway, this thing is unbetaed and very silly :) Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 14: I Feel Better

Spock sat down on the bed, observing as Jim leaned on the 's keyboard, talking animatedly with his older brother. Jim's eyes were lit with mirth, his lips spread with a broad smile and hands flying through the air in wide, enthusiastic gestures. The sadness that had always lingered in the corners of Jim's eyes was gone, leaving nothing but bright happiness behind. Spock watched as Jim threw his head back to laugh carelessly. Spock felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards at the sight.

"..._and then she just looked at me like I was insane and marched away. It was love at first sight, I tell you, Jimmy... she's gorgeous_."

"You're hopeless, Sam," Jim giggled, "When can I see her?"

"_If you wait a second I'll get Aurelan to come here, don't run away_!"

"As if! Wait, she's at your apartment?"

Samuel's laughing face vanished from the screen for a few moments, before reappearing, alongside another, female one. The woman was dark-haired and smiling brightly at Jim, waving a slender hand. Jim's eyes narrowed and he puckered his lips in, what Spock assumed, was a thoughtful expression. Finally, Jim nodded approvingly. "Yep, you were right, Sammy, she's gorgeous."

"Goodness, Sam, he's a darling!" Aurelan snickered, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear, "_Say, Jim, how are you doing at the palace? And... oh, dear, Sam, is that.._.?"

"_The Crown Prince? Yeah_."

"..._I think I need to sit down_."

Jim looked at Spock over his shoulder and Spock lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, trying to convey that he, too, questioned both Samuel's and Aurelan's sanity. It caused Jim to snort and turn back towards the screen, where Aurelan had seated herself on Samuel's lap apparently. "_Why didn't you tell me your little brother was calling from the Prince's room sooner_?"

Spock shook his head mildly. Humans were a truly puzzling species and far too illogical to comprehend. What he _had_ understood, however, was George Samuel Kirk's bidding to call him 'Sam', instead of George. Apparently, the name of their late Father had become something of a taboo in the Kirk household over the years that the two brothers' had spent watching their mother's emotional wellbeing deteriorate. Spock had never called anyone by a nickname, apart from Jim, but he chose to compromise by calling the young man 'Samuel', even if it had caused a rather exasperated groan to be emitted from Jim's older brother.

He directed his gaze out of his window, before closing his eyes to fall into a light meditation.

_...a low, bright ringing filled the air around him, his field of vision was soaked with light and he could barely see at all. His feet were sunken in thick, cold mud and Spock wrinkled his nose at the sensation of soggy dirt and leaves trapped between his toes. _

_With slow, deliberate steps he made his way through the brightness, eyes lowered, locked onto his feet as they kept emerging and disappearing in the dark sludge. Unable to identify his current location, he reached out his arms, fingers spread and moving through the cool air around him, trying to find some sort of indicator as to what part of his vast mindscape he was wandering through. _

_Wind whispered across his skin and tousled his hair, rain drenched his clothes and caused them to cling to his body. The scent of imported orange juice and Kray-jam penetrated his nose, alongside a strange, soft and milky smell..._

"...you doing? Are you meditating?"

Spock's eyes blinked open and he almost recoiled when he found himself staring directly into Jim's bright blue eyes. Instead, he blinked lazily back at the younger man. Apparently, he had finished his conversation with his brother; the comm. had been turned off. "Yes, I was meditating."

Jim's curious expression transformed into one of sheepishness. "Oh, yeah. Sorry for interrupting. I just... wanted to say 'thanks you' again. I... I don't really know what..."

Jim ducked his head and Spock politely averted his gaze, when the blond began to wipe at his eyes. "It is alright... I merely wished to ease your mind."

"Ease my mind...? Gaila told you about my call with Frank," Jim sighed heavily, "That woman can't keep a secret to save her life."

"I do not believe you should be displeased about this, after all, if she had not informed me of your conversation with your stepfather, I would have never thought about trying to contact your brother," Spock looked back at Jim, who had managed to get his tears under control, even if his eyes still shone with extra moisture. "But I must agree with you. Miss Vrao seems incapable of keeping a secret for longer than a few hours."

Jim snickered, before sobering and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "So... since we're talking about secrets anyway. Your Mother's identity... how did you manage to keep it a secret for so long?"

"Lady T'Pau, the High Priestess, who is very influential, is informed of my Mother's true identity, which is why no one questioned the sudden disappearance of Amanda Grayson from the palace and the miraculous appearance of Lady T'Pala. Father married my Mother when he was on Earth for three years to establish better communication between Terra and Vulcan."

"Married? Who would marry them...?"

"I apologise, I spoke of their bonding. A bonding can be done without the help of a mind-adept if the two minds are compatible enough. Bonding and marriage are, essentially the same, since a bonding usually takes place in a similar environment as a Terran wedding. When they returned my Father was unsure of how to conceal the fact that Mother was not Vulcan, which is why she was introduced as a servant at first. Only after Lady T'Pau discovered their secret, a plan was formed on how to make it possible for Mother to be acknowledged as my Father's wife."

Jim nodded slowly, "But... I don't understand how she can stand living here, knowing her husband, the man she loves, is the one in charge of... all this... or why your Father decided to marry her."

"Love is an illogical emotion and it, apparently, prompts Humans to do rather illogical things."

"Only Humans?" the blond's eyebrows inched towards his hairline. "Are you saying your Father does not love your Mother?"

Spock was taken aback by the question. For 3.4 minutes, the room was silent and his gaze dropped to stare at Jim's hands where they gripped the younger man's knees. Faint, blotchy scars littered the backs of the slender appendages. His knuckles were scraped open slightly, most likely from helping Sulu tend to his plants. A lone mole sat between the knuckle of the middle- and ring finger. The nails were cleanly cut; their beds reddened, as if they had been scrubbed to roughly.

"Your Highness?"

He shook himself out of his musings and looked up at Jim once more. "I apologise. What was it you were asking?"

Of course, Spock knew what Jim had asked, but he truly did not know how to answer his question, for he did not _know _the answer.

Something between a chuckle and an aggravated sigh escaped Jim's mouth, "Forget it, I know what you would have said anyway," Jim lowered his voice and drew a face that was probably meant to resemble Spock's neutral expression, but failed rather pathetically, "'Vulcans do not have emotions and love is an emotion.'"

He raised an eyebrow at the childish antics of the blond. However, he could not deny that he would have, most likely, answered like this. "Indeed."

Jim snorted and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Uhm... yeah...so... Sam told me you established a weekly comm. session for my brother and me, I... gosh, I don't even know what to do here, Your Highness, that's probably the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. No... it_ is_ the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Well, anyone who is not my brother, of course."

Jim seemed to be one of those Humans who started to babble when confronted with an uncomfortable situation. Spock lifted on shoulder and dropped it again in an approximation of a shrug, "You have agreed to help me with my research. That is all you need to do and I am grateful for it."

"That doesn't even come close to what you've done for me, Prince."

"Your assistance is of great value to me. Jim, you do not need to compensate for something I have done for you willingly," Spock slid off the bed and walked towards the door, "I wish to visit the garden. Will you come with me or are you needed elsewhere?"

In an instant, Jim was on his feet, grinning, "Nope, let's get going. I need some fresh air anyway."

Spock inclined his head and led the way out of his room.

The garden was silent, only the _xirahnahs_ were chirping melancholy songs into the afternoon air. The trees around them rustled and whispered as the wind rushed through the leaves. The thin trail leading into the thick vegetation was covered in mossy, flat stone-tiles, ideal to walk on barefoot if one desired to. And, apparently, Jim did, for the Human decided not to put on his shoes, simply marching through the thick grass towards the trail. Spock contemplated the Human's action for a moment, glancing down at his shoes. Mentally shrugging, he followed Jim without putting them on.

After all, Mother had always said that walking barefoot was healthy.

Jim skipped rather that walked, humming quietly to himself. Spock almost ran into the younger man, when Jim stopped abruptly. "James?"

"Damn, I forgot, Pavel and Sulu walked in here... I don't know if they're gone yet."

"I believe we will be able to avoid them if the need arises."

"Right, I'll just trust your Vulcan hearing to kick in before we march into some serious making-out session," Jim mumbled.

"'Making-out'?"

"Uhm... excessive kissing and groping," Jim said, his voice wavering between amusement and embarrassment, "You know, the illogical stuff Humans do when they like each other."

Spock decided not to comment just now, instead, he took the lead, manoeuvring through the thicket, until he reached the small, secret clearing in the very heart of the garden, off the tiled paths that sliced through it, hidden behind the curtain-like branches of Terran willows. His Mother had insisted on having them in the garden and Father, urged by forces unknown, had instantly agreed to have them shipped here.

The clearing was almost perfectly round, covered in thick, green grass sprinkled in tiny, yellow _thlably_ and daisies that his Mother had taken to cultivate in a tiny beet, at first, but after a year, they had begun to spread throughout the entire garden like resilient weed. In the middle of the clearing, Spock had placed a basket-chair, which he had, without telling anyone, removed from the terrace to carry it here. It had been difficult to manoeuvre the large, bowl-like contraption through the thick vegetation and the slight damage done to the wickerwork only proved this. The tiny, forgotten pond on the right side was filled with nothing but water and algae, nurturing the hydrophilic willows framing the clearing.

Spock glanced at Jim, his lips quirking upwards when the younger man's mouth opened slightly in astonishment, before a broad smile spread the pink lips, "This is amazing!"

"Indeed," Spock walked over to the basket-chair, sitting down, while Jim explored their surroundings.

Finally, the blond returned to him, standing in front of his seat for a moment, before shrugging and plopping down next to him, the sloping inside of the chair causing him to slide against Spock's side, "Sorry."

"It is of no concern," Spock assured, even if the close proximity caused his shoulders to tense and his heart rate to increase.

He furrowed his brows marginally. The latter reaction was new.

Comfortable silence settled over the clearing, until Spock spoke up again, "'Making-out' is not something solely Humans do."

"Huh?" Jim turned to look at him, eyes wide, "What... are you telling me you...?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow, "We are Vulcans, Jim, we may suppress our emotions but we are not prude, nor do we think that gaining sexual satisfaction is something distasteful."

Jim seemed dumbstruck, blinking slowly and deliberately before opening his mouth to ask, "Are you saying, you, Prince Spock of Vulcan, made-out with someone?"

"I surely did not only 'make-out'," Spock answered smoothly, mildly amused by the strangled sound emitting from Jim's throat.

"You had _sex_?"

"Why is it so surprising that I have had intercourse? I am twenty, Jim, an acceptable age to engage in sexual relations with others. Surely, you have so before, too. Most Human males lose their 'virginity' around your age, as far as I am informed."

The blush blooming on Jim's face belied this little half-fact and the younger man cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, "Yeah, well, I'm not _most Human males_. I don't want to sleep with some random person just to get it over with."

"Ah, I understand," Spock nodded, "I did not sleep with random individuals either-"

"_Individuals_? Plural? Damn, Your Highness, you are a player! Aren't you bonded to someone? Isn't that like... cheating on your girlfriend?"

"I have met T'Pring once in my life, I do not harbour any sort of affection for her, nor do I wish to share my bed with her. We have been linked out of necessity. Being linked does not mean that one has to be attracted to the person. Vulcans are usually linked at the age of seven, but most of these bonds are broken when they find a more suitable partner."

"Then why link them in the first place?"

"It is necessary in case of...," Spock trailed off, his ears heating up and he shook his head once, "It is not something Vulcans speak about to outsiders."

"This is about that crazy Pon Farr thing, right?"

Spock's head snapped around, eyes wide and his face displaying his surprise and mortification too openly for it to be acceptable. "Who informed you about this, Jim?"

"So much for not being prudish, huh? No one told me, I hacked into the databases about Vulcan anatomy in sickbay when Bones wasn't looking," Jim shrugged, "It was really interesting to read, especially the stuff about touch-telepathy. Is it true that your hands are so sensitive that the Klingons tortured Vulcans by sticking needles into the tips of their fingers?"

Blindsided, Spock did not register that Jim had asked him a question at first, before he nodded slowly, "Yes... James, you cannot simply hack into the databases-"

"Yes, I can," Jim reached out to grab Spock's wrist, careful not to touch his skin as he lifted his arm to look at Spock's hand, "There are nerve-endings in the tips of your fingers that run straight to the telepathy receptors in your brain. By poking the needles into them, the nerves were destroyed and the Vulcan was left in agony until they either healed again, or, if the damage was too high, they died a cruel death, because the receptors in their brain overloaded and literally fried themselves... Say, you're half-Vulcan... is your telepathy limited by that?"

"No. To be exact, it is even stronger than in most Vulcans, which is why my partners were unable to venture far enough into my mind to discover my secret when we had intercourse. I was able to block them easily."

"You use the telepathy while having sex?"

"It is only logical to do so. After all, it allows us to feel both our own pleasure and that of our partner."

Jim blinked, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. The redness in his cheeks increased to the point of looking unhealthy. "_Oh_, that's... that's convenient."

Spock nodded, suddenly uncomfortable in Jim's presence, the proximity between them too much. He wondered if the fact that they were talking about sex had anything to do with this sudden change of atmosphere. Then again, he had never had a problem with talking about it before, so it must stem from the fact that it was _Jim_ he was talking with.

But why would he find it uncomfortable to talk about sex with Jim?

Jim fidgeted and running a hand through his hair, tousling it even further, "Uhm... so, you are going to be bonded to her... when exactly again?"

"In exactly 107.2 days."

"You could have just said three and a half months, you know...," Jim snickered, bumping his shoulder against Spock's gently, "You don't sound too happy about that. Why didn't you stay with one of your other... uhm... partners?"

"They might not have realised that I am half-Human, they did however recognise that there was something different about my mind. I am not as in control of my emotions as I wish to be and for Vulcans, control is important. It was logical for them to refuse to stay with me or even consider a bond."

"That's not logical at all," Jim frowned, "So what if you're different? So what if your emotions are a little more to the surface than usual? There's nothing bad about that. It makes you a better person in my opinion, because you actually care what happens to those around you. Is compassion considered illogical too? Then your society is indeed a very sad one. And seriously, if they couldn't see what a wonderful being you are, they didn't deserve you in the first place. The make-up of your DNA doesn't change anything about your character or your competence as the next King. You are Spock and that's all you have to be."

Spock stared at Jim, his lips parted slightly in astonishment. Jim bit his lip, glaring at his knees, face coloured crimson with excess blood. The tight knot that had contorted Spock's stomach for the past month loosened and he felt a strange sort of giddiness settle behind his sternum. He reached out to place his index-finger against Jim's wrist, causing the younger man to look up and meet his gaze reluctantly, "Thank you, Jim."

Jim shrugged, a tiny smile quirking the corners of his mouth upwards, "I'm just telling the truth... sorry for ranting again. I don't know why I got so angry."

"It is alright," Spock wrapped his hand around Jim's wrist entirely, raising their joined appendages to study the Human's hand.

The thumb showed clear calluses where the pencil lay during writing, and the blotchy scars seemed a little darker now that Spock was close enough to study them. He wanted to inquire as to where the scars had originated from, refrained however and continued to observe. Finally, Jim wriggled his fingers playfully, the slender phalanges moving temptingly through the air.

_Temptingly_?

Spock lifted an eyebrow at Jim, dismissing the strange thought that had invaded his mind, "You have very small hands, James."

"What? My hands aren't small, you silly elf," Jim said indignantly.

Spock had no time to react when the younger man pulled his hand out of his grasp and pushed their palms together to measure their hands against each other. And while Jim kept whining about how Spock just had 'way too long fingers', he was overwhelmed by the feel of Jim's warm, naked skin against his own and the strange, electrifying sensation running up his arm. _Fascinating._

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><p>Yaiy!<p> 


	16. Chapter 15: Kiss that Frog

Hey guys!

This chapter should have been done two days ago, but since I've been hit with the Flu and I almost collapsed on Monday, I couldn't finish it until today.

Talltree-san: Thank you! Haha, oh dear, well, feel free to interpret away! ;) Could it be that you reviewed the last chapter twice? Anyway, I love willows too :) They are beautiful. My favourite tree is the Mulberry Tree, it's branches hang down too, but it looks less depressing. :) Oh, and I've seen that vid already ;) It's awesome.

Kim: I'm glad you liked it :) I dunno if I am going slow enough, though. Especially this chapter seems awfully fast forward, but oh well... :)

Adrianna: Aw! Your enthusiasm is so cute! :)

Alrightey. Bear with the probably awful typos and awkward sentence constructions, I can barely see straight at the moment :)

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 15: Kiss that Frog

Jim scowled at their hands. Spock's dwarfed his own, the tips of his fingers only reaching up to the uppermost joint of the Prince's. His palms were soft, not like Jim's which had been roughened by life. He looked up to address the Prince directly again, but was rendered quiet, when he found the Vulcan-hybrid's eyes glazed, mouth opened slightly and his cheeks tinted minty green.

..._a gust of cool wind caressed his cheeks, the scent of sand and mossy stones permeated the air..._

Jim furrowed his brows, following the Prince's gaze down to their joined hands. Spock's fingers were twitching marginally, tiny tremors through the muscles of his arm. There was a strange sensation flitting through Jim's hand, like an electric current, strange but not unpleasant.

"James, I would be most grateful if... if you could remove your hand from mine," Spock said quietly, his voice suddenly an octave lower, a raspy timbre vibrating through the velvet baritone.

As Jim moved his hand away, Spock's fingers curled downwards, effectively trapping Jim's.

..._a pulse of searing heat and longing swept through him_...

He frowned up at the Prince, trying not to shiver at the strange look in those brown eyes. They seemed bright with wonder, but at the same time misted over with something Jim could not quite identify and the green flush across the pale cheekbones only darkened as the seconds ticked by.

..._pearls clinked together, creating a soft, soothing sound that settled over the landscape like a blanket_...

"Uh...," Jim swallowed uncertainly, confused by the strange thoughts and visions flitting through his brain, "I thought I was supposed to let go...?"

Spock blinked and ripped his hand away, looking almost mortified, but the expression vanished as soon as it had appeared. "I apologise, James."

"What are you apologising for? Holding hands?" Jim was confused, "I'm not upset about that, it's all fine."

The Prince averted his gaze, "James, you are aware that, not only are Vulcan hands very sensitive but they are also... an erogenous zone? Touching hands upon Vulcan is essentially the same as pressing your lips to another upon Earth."

"Wait, wait, _wait_. I... are you saying we... we _kissed_?"

He just kissed Spock. The Crown Prince.

Jim buried his face in his hands, heat rising up his neck and engulfing his entire face, turning it bright red with embarrassment. Fuck. How did this happen? Why, for fuck's sake, had he decided to just grab the Prince's hand? He knew that Vulcans did not like to touch others. He knew they were touch-telepaths. What had compelled him to just snatch up the elegant appendage and...

"Jim? I apologise if-"

He laughed, looking up at the Prince, "You're apologising? I should! I was the one who just started to feel you up without your permission!"

Spock tilted his head to the side, a small crease between his eyebrows, "Are you implying that you would not react this way, if you had had my permission to... 'feel me up'?"

"Yes – I mean – no! No, what are you...no! That's not what I was implying at all!"

The Prince blinked slowly at him, one eyebrow quirked upwards, "I see. May I inquire... when you touched my hand, have you felt anything? I have always wondered if a Human would experience anything were they to touch hands with a Vulcan. And... while I do possess the option to ask my Mother, it is not... something that I wish to inquire about."

Jim bit his lip to suppress the laughter, "Yeah, I know what you mean. That would end up being one hell of an awkward conversation."

"Indeed."

"Well... I felt... some kind of tingle? I don't know. It wasn't... I mean... it felt kind of... nice."

Spock shifted a little, turning fully towards Jim. He shivered when their thighs brushed together more firmly. "Fascinating. I, too, experienced something similar. Of course, for a Vulcan, due to the sensitive nerve-endings that are brushed together when _ozh'esta_ is performed between bondmates, there is always some sort of sensation present."

"_Ozh'esta_? Finger touching?" Jim translated, a small frown marring his face, "Is that what you call a Vulcan kiss?"

"Since kissing usually means touching your lips to a part of someone else's body, the comparison is not quite accurate but not entirely wrong. Vulcans do not 'kiss' with their mouths for it serves no purpose but to exchange bacteria and bodily fluids. It is a rather unsanitary way to proclaim their affection to one another."

Jim huffed, "How would you know? Have you ever kissed before?"

"No," Spock answered, "Have you?"

"Of course I did!"

"Considering that you have yet to have sex, I assumed that you were not intimately close enough to anyone to experience a kiss. I apologise for offending you, Jim."

Feeling a little stupid for his indignant outburst, Jim shrugged, "It's fine, Human male's just hate having their pride wounded."

"I was not aware Human's formed prides and I do not understand what this has to do with the fact that I offended you."

Covering his face, Jim started to laugh, "No! I meant my pride. My ego?"

"Ah... I seem to have yet to learn a lot about Human vernaculars. You are a very peculiar species, Jim," Spock's gaze flitted across his face, as if he was searching for something, "May I inquire whom you have kissed, Jim?"

"A friend. From school back on Earth. I was like... fourteen? It wasn't anything major, just... a little tongue, nothing more, because I kinda freaked out on him."

"'Tongue'?" was it Jim or did Spock sound a tad disgusted?

Jim laughed, "French kissing? No?"

Spock looked more and more like he considered simply leaving the premises, "Jim, you have to clarify what you mean by 'French kissing', since we have established that I am not well versed in the way of expression affection the Human way."

"Well... uhm...," Jim fidgeted, "I can't really describe it well. Essentially, two people open their mouths while kissing and then... uhm... twine their tongues together, I guess..."

"I cannot imagine how that could be considered pleasurable in any kind of way. It sounds immensely revolting."

"Don't judge something without having tried it, Your Highness."

"Are you volunteering to demonstrate, Mr. Kirk?"

Jim blinked, a broad smile spreading his lips at the teasing remark, "And if I was?"

Spock blinked, tilting his head to the side, one eyebrow rising towards his hairline, "Is this a serious offer? If it is, I would be tempted to take it for the sake of gathering evidence."

Jim was taken aback, even though he should have been used to the boldness with which Vulcan's approached most situations, "Uhm... are you sure? I mean... this is... a little... uhm..."

"If it is too intimate for you, you are free to decline, Jim, I will not force you to do something you are clearly uncomfortable with," Spock said quietly.

Waving it off, Jim tried to get himself to stop freaking out internally and instead composed his face into a carefree expression with a matching grin on his lips, "No, it's fine. Let's do this."

Obviously surprised about Jim's easy acceptance, Spock straightened his back and pinned Jim with an expectant stare. Jim swallowed thickly, leaning forward bit by tiny bit, his eyes fixed on Spock's dark brown depths, before they slid down to gaze at the pale pink lips, their corners tinged a slight green, making them look strangely more inviting. A mere centimetre before their lips met, Jim let his eyes slide closed.

Spock's lips were cool and soft, though unyielding and unresponsive. Jim moved his lips slightly against the Prince's, suppressing a triumphant grin when it caused the Prince to draw in a sharp breath through his nose. Braver now, Jim dared to run his tongue along the seam of Spock's lips, feeling giddy, when Spock opened his mouth slightly.

..._the sun shone brightly, reflecting in the shallow water covering the stone tiles, a bright ringing sound filled the air. High, golden crops framed the tiled trail, swaying in the wind, rustling and almost drowning out the bell-like clinking. The sky was littered in stark white clouds, contrasting sharply with the cerulean firmament_...

The inside of Spock's mouth was moist and just as cool as his lips had been. His tongue, which tentatively prodded against Jim's was rough, like a cat's but not painfully so. It sent a shiver down Jim's spine.

..._paper cranes floated down the trail, swaying precariously upon the sheet of water, towards something beyond the horizon_...

They parted, Jim was left breathless, gulping down air like a man in a desert confronted with a glass of water. Even Spock's breathing sounded heavier. The Prince's face was flushed minty green and his lips were kiss-swollen, a glazed sheen covered his widened eyes. Their gazes were locked, eyes unmoving as Jim and Spock kept breathing into the silence.

Spock blinked and, suddenly, the moment was gone.

A second later, Jim yelped as he slid into the middle of the basket-chair when the space that Spock had occupied was vacated abruptly. Spock hovered beside the chair for another moment, before turning, vanishing in the thicket, leaving Jim to stare after him in bewilderment. A swarm of _laras _landed near the small pond, their blue feathers shimmering in the sun as they waded through the clear water, their heads disappearing beneath the surface as they used their long beaks to card through the mud at the bottom in search for sustenance.

Finally, when his brain had decided to reboot itself to deal with the situation, Jim gave an exasperated huff, feeling incredibly stupid. The sound startled a few of the birds, but they did not bolt, instead, they merely stared at him for a moment, before resuming their activity. What had he been thinking? Kissing Spock like that.

Jim ran both hands through his hair. He had just made the biggest mistake in his short life.

A pained groan tumbled from his mouth. Seriously, had he suffered from a major brain-fart or what the fuck had been going through his head when he agreed to kiss the Prince? And what were those weird visions he kept getting? Sure, he was not a stranger to daydreaming, but usually that happened when he was immensely bored and kissing Spock had not been boring _at all_. Additionally, the bell-like ringing sounded oddly familiar. Jim was certain he had heard the sound somewhere before. But where...?

Maybe it had just been his brain short-circuiting when Spock's tongue did that odd little flick against the roof of his mouth...

He buried his face in his hands. Great, not only had he probably just broken various rules concerning fraternization between royalty and mere servants, no, he had made Spock uncomfortable enough to leave without even telling him good bye like he usually did. And all that, for a simple, pathetic kiss. The worst thing about this situation was that he had actually _enjoyed the kiss_.

"The hell...?" Jim mumbled, "No. Absolutely not. It was just... just a damn kiss. A demonstration, Jim, stop this train of thought before it leaves the fucking station..."

With a heavy sigh, Jim rose from his seat to leave the clearing, hands stuffed into his pockets as he marched through the thicket back towards the Palace.

When he arrived at the terrace, the door was left open, the curtain billowing out. He could hear two voices talking rather animatedly inside, one he identified as Gaila's, the other was familiar, but he was momentarily unable to place it. Jim stepped into the Palace and was confronted with Lady T'Pala, seated on one of the large, cushioned chairs in the sitting-room, with Gaila lunging on the floor in front of her, scribbling onto large piece of paper alongside Joanna. The little girl was biting her tongue, the tiny pink muscle peeking out from her mouth as she rapidly coloured a gigantic flower in bright orange. Gaila had drawn a crude rendition of the palace, the building dwarfed by the orange monstrosity Joanna had fabricated.

Jim watched them for a while, before knocking against the windowpane of the open terrace-door to gain their attention. It was almost terrifying as all three heads snapped up, all eyes focused on him, "Uh... hey Ladies."

Gaila smiled brightly, well, at least she was not angry anymore, "Hey, Jimmy. You wanna help Jo-Jo and me paint?"

"Sure, but first I have to ask Lady T'Pala something...," he trailed off at the curiosity growing behind Gaila's pale blue eyes, before resuming to speak once more, voice firm and admonishing, "Something private that concerns only her and me."

"Spoil-sport," Gaila pouted, an expression that was immediately imitated by Jo, "Very well. After you had your talk you'll paint with us. And you'll explain why Prince Spock came barging through here like he was being chased by a hungry le-matya ten minutes ago."

He could feel the blush rising up his neck and the narrowing of Gaila's eyes told him, that she was becoming suspicious. Trying to dispel the awkwardness of the situation, Jim rolled his eyes, attempting to seem unfazed and looked at the Queen who had slowly stood, "I need to speak to you, Your Majesty. It is very important."

Lady T'Pala inclined her head, eyes twinkling as she led him out of the sitting-room and into the empty kitchen. She leaned against the counter, lifted an eyebrow in anticipation, "What is it you need to speak to me about, James?"

"I know your secret."

Amanda froze, a slow blink being the only movement from her for a long while. Finally, she took a deep, steadying breath, her mouth spreading into a broad smile, "I should have known that you would find out sooner or later. You are far too perceptive, Jim. And rather nosy. So, tell me, what blew my cover?"

"Well, to be honest, I actually thought you were just... more expressive than other Vulcans. I seriously would have never thought you could be anything but Vulcan. When Spock allowed me to read the Terran books from the library, I noticed that all of them had something written onto the first page. After that, it was pretty easy to come to the right conclusion," Jim shrugged, "I just... don't understand how you fell for the King. I am sorry if I sound disrespectful, but it doesn't make any sense to me at all."

Amanda chuckled, "Ah, yes... I believe it is a little careless to leave my books in the open like this... And... as for a reason why I fell in love with Sarek; I honestly do not know how to give you a satisfying answer. There are so many little things about him that made me want to spend my life by his side. When Sarek came to Earth to spend a few weeks there, intend on studying our culture, I was... drawn to him. Not in the good way at first. He would sit in the park near the street I lived in and everytime I would jog by, he was sitting there on the same bench, looking just as composed as ever.

"And every day I would try to rile him up. Try to get a reaction from him. Needless to say, all I did manage to achieve by doing this was that I ultimately sat down beside him and we started to talk. He told me about Vulcan, about how he was not happy with the fact that he had to follow traditions and rules that he disapproved of, but would not to bow to, simply because he was the King. Don't look at me like that, Jim. Sarek is just as disgusted by the way non-Vulcans are treated as you are. The problem is, how do you change a law that runs as deeply as this? Truth be told, Jim, the King is nothing but a representative. A puppet with little to say. If the council does not approve of the changes the King wants to make, they will simply be discarded."

Jim was left baffled, unable to speak as Amanda reached out to gently take his hand.

"Sarek has been slowly making life easier for those enslaved. I know, it is not much, but do not resent him for it. It is all he can do at the moment. Before we had Spock, we have been trying to convince the council to annul the law. But... they always countered with the fact that, once we would give them freedom, they might turn against us and... when Spock was born... I could not risk it, Jim. So we gave up. For now."

"But... I don't get it. Why would Sarek let himself be manipulated like that?"

"It is not easy for him. But Jim, if he does not carry on being the King, the next in line would be the Soren of the House of Slerran, since Spock is not yet twenty-one. I believe you have heard of him before."

Jim shuddered. Yes, he had. Soren was a ruthless man, well, _Vulcan_, and if Vulcans were aware of something like compassion, then Soren was severely lacking in this particular department. He could not imagine what would happen if the man became King. Jim would probably be stuck in the mines now, working his ass off and Sam..._ fuck_, he would have never heard of him again.

For a brief second he wondered if he should tell Amanda about what Spock and he had been working on the past few weeks, simply because she had opened up to him like this. But without asking Spock if that was alright he-

"Jim?"

He looked up at Amanda, whose brows were drawn in concern, "Yes?"

She smiled again and, not for the first time, Jim noticed how her eyes twinkled the same way Spock's would whenever he was amused, "I was asking why my son was so... distraught when he rushed upstairs earlier. Considering that you both came from the garden, I am assuming you were with him...?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was. It... was a misunderstanding."

Amanda tilted her head to the side, and _goodness_, why did everything remind him of Spock at the moment?

"What kind of misunderstanding? I am used to Spock interpreting Humans wrongly, but he has never looked this... confused before," she squinted at him calculatingly, "What did you do, Jim?"

There was something like laughter brightening her tone, "Nothing! I swear, it was nothing. I'll talk to him later, we just... had a little..."

He made an awkward little shrugging motion, entirely unsure how to act around the Mother of the guy he had, just minutes ago, been kissing An uncomfortable silence settled over the kitchen, until it was finally broken by a delicate snicker issuing from Amanda's throat, "Fine. I won't pry anymore. It must have been something incredibly embarrassing if you are so unwilling to talk about it, Jim."

Oh, if only she knew.

"Yeah...," he chuckled and inched towards the door, "We should go back to Jo and Gaila. I promised them to help them draw, didn't I?"

"Indeed you did," Amanda's expression changed back into one of serene blankness, the transition so subtle, that it left Jim speechless for a moment, "However, it will be amusing to watch you evade her questions as soon as we leave this kitchen."

"Oh damn, don't remind me," Jim grumbled.

As soon as they had returned to the two aspiring artists lying on the floor, Gaila was bombarding him with all sorts of inane and probing questions. Jim did not even try to answer them. He simply sat down, reached for the blue crayon and began to paint the sky, leaving out white bits to give the illusion of the firmament being filled with fluffy clouds. He then gently wrapped his hand around Joanna's, slowing her down and leading the orange tip of the pencil smoothly along the borders of the flower's petals. Gaila babbled on, not even caring if anyone was listening, just needing to rant about Jim being a horrible friend for not telling her what was going on.

Joanna pushed another piece of paper into Jim's direction and held out a few crayons, smiling brightly, unaffected by the whining Orion at her side, "If you made Spock unhappy, you should draw him somethin'. He'll like you again, I'm sure!"

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><p>Right-o! Anyway, I wanted to tell you all that, after thinking about it for a very long time, I decided to write a sequel to "In Your Eyes"... in which I will explore just how deep I've gotten stuck in this fandom already. :)<p> 


	17. Chapter 16: In Your Light

Hey guys!

Wow, this chapter took way too long again... I'm really sorry. Anyway, I started the sequel to "In Your Eyes" and called it "Secret World". It'll be way crazier than my other stories, because it's sort of... experimental. So... if you're not comfortable with any of the stuff I'll write in Secret World, I'm sorry :).

Talltree-san: You do realise that you are adorable, right? I love your reviews to death.

Kim: Thank you, I'm better now :)

Adrianna: Haha, I'm glad you liked it! And, considering that I am still getting reviews on In Your Eyes... there was no way I could escape the urge to write a sequel much longer ;)

Anyway... uhm... the chapter is a little... odd. I'm not sure. Anyway, enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 16: In Your Light

Spock stepped out of the shower, drying his hair slowly as he made his way towards the wardrobe. After his impromptu escape he had returned to his room, ears burning with shame and head reeling with numerous questions. Instantly, he had locked himself in his bathroom to calm down by taking a hot shower. What had he been thinking when he agreed to the kiss?

His thoughts wandered off, remembering the warmth that had greeted him when their lips had met, the way Jim's soft, short tongue had flicked against his own tentatively. Spock had never experienced anything like it before. Not even with his last partner, who had been a very... enthusiastic lover. The fact that he had truly enjoyed the kiss, not only because it felt new and exotic, but also because it was _Jim_ he had been kissing, confounded him. What confused him the most, however, were the strange snippets of warmth and sunshine he kept seeing as they kissed. Had he accidentally opened his shields and invaded Jim's mind? If so, he would need to apologise and rebuild his shields...

Spock closed his eyes, breathing out slowly as he examined his barriers. They were as sturdy as ever. He frowned pensively, pulling clothes from his wardrobe and starting to dress himself again. Maybe a short meditation session would help him regain his logic.

Leisurely, he seated himself on his meditation mat and systematically relaxed the muscles in his back and legs. Before he could sink into his mindscape, however, he was startled by a loud knock. Opening his eyes, he furrowed his brows slightly. Quietly, he ordered the door to open, surprised when he found Jim standing in the door-way, holding a roll of paper in both hands, looking rather embarrassed, "Jim. Can I help you?"

"Uh... yeah, I... I just...uhm, can I come in?"

Spock inclined his head slightly, watching as Jim entered his room. As soon as the door had slid closed behind the younger man, Spock tilted his head to the side questioningly. He had not anticipated that Jim would even consider returning to his room after the fiasco four hours ago, "What is it you need, Jim?"

"Uhm... well, for one, I wanted to apologise... I shouldn't have done what I did back... back in the garden," Jim cleared his throat, "And second... Joanna made me... uhm... draw you something. I'm not that much of an artist, but I tried my best so... here."

Spock accepted the roll of paper, opening it slowly. At first, he was a little confused by what he was actually holding in his hands. Jim was clearly not used to drawing at all, his strokes were a tentative but he seemed to have had a clear picture of what he wanted to portray. Which, considering what the sheet of paper displayed, was a rather odd thing to say, since the scene that had been drawn, was something that simply did not exist on Vulcan or any other planet that Spock was aware of.

There was a large, willow-like tree in the right corner of the picture; the long, thin branches barely sketched out to make the pearls that grew upon the twigs seem brighter. The ground had been coloured with blue and green, as if to indicate that it was covered in water and something that vaguely resembled a Terran jellyfish seemed to float near the top of the paper. The sun was setting and the sky was coloured in reddish orange and soft pink. It was a strange picture, but somehow, it was oddly familiar to Spock. Especially the tree drew Spock's attention in. He had seen something like it before while wandering through his own mind during repose.

"I... Jim...?"

"Joanna made me do it!" Jim clarified once again, "She said she always draws something for those who are mad at her, so-"

"Jim, I am not... 'mad' at you," Spock stood and laid the picture onto his desk, "I appreciate your gift, however. Thank you."

Jim grinned, his cheeks turning a slight pink, "You're welcome."

"May I just inquire as to the origin of the scenery? It seems rather... unusual."

"Oh... yeah. It's... you'll think I'm crazy now, but... it's something I saw in a dream once. Well, it looked prettier then, but you know," Jim shrugged, obviously unsure of how to handle the situation, "I just thought it'd be nice to paint it. And... I'm really sorry, Your Highness."

"Why? It is I who decided to take your obvious... joke as permission to suggest a demonstration of a human kiss," Spock turned to look at Jim, "Logically, it should be I who apologises."

"What? No!" Jim laughed incredulously, "That's stupid..! Okay, you know what? Let's say we're both at fault."

"Is it mandatory for me to paint you a picture too now, Jim?"

"Don't get smart with me, Prince," Jim warned, the grin on his face broadening, before he plopped down on Spock's bed with a tiny sigh, "So... we're good?"

"Indeed, Jim."

Jim nodded slowly, "I talked to your Mother. About the secret."

"I assume she did not mind it very much that you were aware of her true identity?"

"Nope, she was pretty cool about it," Jim reached for the stack of documents on Spock's bedside table, reading through the first one and furrowing his brows slightly, before his eyes widened, "Oh... I think..."

Spock hastily made his way onto the bed, crawling towards Jim to peer at the documents. They were those they had taken from the Library of Gol and Jim was pointing at the date that had been written in the corner of almost every paper they had read through, "I think I know what it means now."

"Indeed?"

"Well... no, but, I've seen the date before. You remember the tiny piece of paper I found in the book? The numbers 12/3/20/52 were written on it. Because of the slash between the first and last two numbers of the year, I didn't recognise it as such. The 3rd of December 2052."

Spock nodded slowly, "Yes, but how exactly does this help us, Jim?"

"Well, obviously it is a very important date if it's been written onto the documents. Additionally, it's in the middle of the timeframe where the Romulan Empire was taken over. We just need to find out why the person who wrote... what is that...," Jim trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he leaned over the documents, nose almost pressed to the paper, "How did I not see this..."

"See what, Jim?"

"Here, the message beneath the date," Jim jabbed his index-finger onto the paper, hard enough to cause it to wrinkle slightly and to make Spock wince, "It's written in English."

Spock furrowed his brows, eyes zeroing in on the incredibly small inscription on the very bottom of the page.

_I've written the code onto a paper and hid it in the library and I truly hope you'll see this note before you return the documents to the library. I was, however, unable to find out what it is for exactly. I am quite sure that, whatever it is, it is located within the palace. In case that we will never meet again, live long and prosper, my dear friend. _

_T.S.K._

"T. S. K.? Who is T.S.K.?" Jim exclaimed, "Oh, this is getting more and more confusing!"

"Jim, I believe you are focusing on the wrong information. Apparently, the numbers do not only tell us a certain date, but are used as a code for a certain something," Spock tugged the documents out of Jim's hands, studying them carefully for anything else they might have missed.

Jim pouted, glaring down at the papers, "It doesn't matter what we focus on. It's not enough information to keep us going from here. It's like a riddle without a key phrase that would give you the clue to get to the solution. I've never been a very patient person, but this is getting really frustrating. What is the code for? Where can we start searching? Is there even a solution? Who is this T.S.K?"

The younger man had talked himself into a frenzy and huffed out a low growl, flopping down on his back to stare at the ceiling eyes bright with anger. Spock set the documents aside and folded his legs underneath himself, head tilted as he looked down at Jim, "Logic dictates that we start searching where we have found the first clue. Thus I propose we begin in the Palace's library."

Another one of Jim's radiant smiles spread across the Human's lips, "You're right. Sorry for freaking out there for a minute."

"It is alright, Jim. I have become used to your strange outbursts."

"Wow, thank you, Your Highness, what a relief," Jim quipped, still smirking, "Well then, how about we go and investigate the library?"

"In a minute, Jim," Spock's gaze was drawn back towards the roll of paper on his desk, "May I inquire as to when you had this dream?"

"Well... to be honest, a while ago, and the tree wasn't that tall. It was just a tiny sapling, but with every dream I had, it would grow a little. But it hasn't grown this big yet. Must be some sort of continuous dream or something... I... well, it's complicated to explain."

"Since when have you been experiencing these dreams, Jim?"

"For a while now... I think since the day I came here," Jim shrugged uncertainly, "I never really thought about it but when I started to paint the picture, I had the feeling that I needed to draw exactly this scene, even if I have never seen the tree look like that. I mean, I've never seen a tree with pearls instead of leaves outside of my dreams period, so... what am I even saying? You're probably thinking that I'm completely mental, aren't you?"

"No, Jim. I have to confess that I have been having similar dreams for the past weeks. They, too, included a sapling that grew pearls instead of trees," Spock lowered his brows slightly, eyes skating across Jim's pensive face, "The question as to why my own mind continues to conjure up strange scenes and places has been occupying me just as long, especially since I am not used to having a dream that is so clearly trying to... to 'point something out' to me. It is like my own brain is attempting to convey a message, but, similar to the secret we are trying to uncover, I do not understand it enough to find a solution."

Jim had sat up while he spoke, leaning closer, eyes rounded with something close to wonder, "Wait, wait, wait. You've been having these dreams too? And... geez, that can't be normal now, can it? I mean, I've heard about a lot of weird coincidences, but this..."

Spock inclined his head, his gaze darting towards the window, "It is indeed a curious issue we have encountered."

"Your Highness... when... when we kissed... did you... I mean, as soon as we touched I started to... see and feel things that weren't really there. And... and...," Jim's voice dropped to a whisper, "I actually..."

Had they been this close before? Close enough for Spock to see the moistness glistening upon the plump, pink lips and the reddish tint within the long, blonde lashes framing Jim's blue eyes. He could count every single freckle upon the tanned skin of his cheeks and nose, even those he had missed the first time the proximity between them had been so diminished. Jim's lids fluttered, sliding down to cover his eyes half-way and his lips parted marginally. A slight sheen of red bloomed on the Human's cheeks and Spock was compelled to touch the newly coloured skin.

A moment later, his eyes had shut and his mouth tasted Jim's for the second time this day.

_...the paint dripped down from the branches of the oddly formed tree above them, the sunlight turned green as it filtered through the leaves..._

Two slender arms wrapped themselves around his neck and pulled him closer, his own hands resting against the younger man's warm sides.

_...water covered the ground, soaking into their skin and causing it to bloom with colour..._

Spock pulled away with a soft gasp, staring into Jim's wide eyes as the Human tried to regulate his own breathing. How did they end up like this again, why-?

"You're not going to run away again, right?" Jim's quiet, breathless voice made Spock focus on the young man before him.

The thin arms locked around his neck kept him seated, even if he could have easily removed them. But he would not dare to break Jim's arms simply because he was... _afraid_ of the situation at hand. Spock blinked once, twice, before opening his mouth to answer, "No."

Jim licked his lips nervously, "This is not normal. Is it?"

Spock watched his eyes flicker as the man scanned Spock's features, "No, it is not."

The Human nodded, drawing his lower lip between his teeth, "Any idea of what is going on?"

He shook his head once, "None at all."

A tiny smile curled the corners of Jim's mouth upwards, "Then we'll have to start searching for the answer where we found the first clue."

Spock felt his own lips twitch slightly. He lifted an eyebrow, "Indeed. However, we do have another mission first, Jim. This situation can wait another day before it is solved. It might be my faulty shielding that has prompted this. Or your hormones have 'gotten the better of you'."

"I'm very much in charge of my body, Your Highness," Jim said haughtily, still not removing himself from Spock, instead he seemed to latch onto him a little tighter.

"Considering that you are currently holding onto me without thinking about what it would imply, I highly doubt that," Spock said calmly, even if he himself had curled his hands into Jim's shirt where it covered the younger man's ribcage, "Jim... we cannot... I am currently engaged to Lady T'Pring and... as much as I abhor the thought of spending the rest of my life with her, I cannot... I have a duty to fulfil for the sake of the kingdom. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Geez, it's not like... you need to marry me because you got me pregnant or something," Jim pulled away, his cheeks red and eyes darting throughout the room, looking everywhere but at Spock, "Of course I understand what you are saying and I wasn't implying anything either. I know that you have to marry T'Pring because your parents don't have any more children that could take over the line if you fall out of favour with the council."

"Jim..."

Jim slipped off the bed, reaching for the document that bore the strange message signed T.S.K., before turning on his heel to head towards the door , "Well, let's get to the library, Your Highness. We have a secret to uncover."

Spock reached out, not thinking as he wrapped his fingers around Jim's bony wrist, stopping the younger man in his tracks, "We will talk about this, Jim. I promise you."

Turning back towards Spock, Jim's eyes were drawn, darker than usual, "What's there to talk about? It's probably just your shielding anyway, no need to make a mountain out of a mole hill, right?"

"James..."

The younger man flinched, "Please, don't-"

"It is not my shielding, Jim. My barriers are all in place and they are neither weakened nor damaged," he sighed softly, "I merely said this because I did not wish to concern you more than necessary and I hoped you would... 'drop' the issue. I believe this has been, as you Humans say, building up for a while and this... is most likely the result of our suppressed attraction for one another. I have read about two minds that, due to similar thought-patterns, create a kind of connection that may confuse not only the psychological, but also the physical state of these two beings. This might be what is happening now."

"So... you're saying that, because we think alike, our bodies decided it'd be awesome if we started eating each other's faces off?" Jim frowned slightly, "But... it would explain the weird flashes I get when we kiss, right?"

"Indeed."

"You do realise that this entire thing here," he gestured vaguely at Spock and himself, "Sounds really... well, illogical?"

"Less illogical than to assume that we are simply unable to control ourselves."

"So you're saying that it's just in our heads? That we...," Jim hesitated for a moment, "That you..._damn it, Spo-_... Your Highness! This isn't just my head that's screwing with me! It can't be..."

Spock was taken aback and, for a moment, unable to speak, "I do not understand, what is it you are saying?"

"I mean that... we're friends aren't we? And... and I really... I think you're..."

Intent on stopping the Human's inane stuttering, Spock pulled Jim back onto the edge of the mattress, moving his hand down to wrap it around Jim's smaller one. Ignoring the tingle that spread up his arm from the intimate contact, he placed his hand against Jim's reddened cheek, "James. Breathe. Yes, we are friends. And I do... like you, too. But I am neither ready to deal with this, nor am I sure how I should do so. So please, for the sake of keeping this as simple as possible, could we postpone this conversation to another day?"

"I... yeah, yeah, you're right. I'm sorry," Jim laughed, even if there was a sort of hysterical note to it, "Alright, let's just... let this lie for a few days until I get my head around this mess..."

"That would be prudent. Do you still wish to visit the library, Jim?"

"Yeah," Jim pulled his hand out of Spock's grip and hurried towards the door, "Last one there is a rotten egg!"

Spock shook his head at the childish display, rising from the bed to follow the young man, only starting to run when Jim was already close to the library. He overtook Jim just 3.4 seconds before the Human reached the double door, lifting an eyebrow smugly, as he opened the heavy gate, "I believe you are the rotten egg, Jim."

"Oh, you'll pay for that, Prince," Jim threatened, the twinkle in his eyes belying his words.

Spock did not answer immediately, simply bowed slightly at the hip as he pushed the doors open, gesturing for Jim to enter, "I do hope you will be able to forgive me, Jim."

"I'll think about it," Jim chuckled as he stepped into the large room, his voice echoing as he spoke, "You know, I can't really remember which book it was that I found the note in. It could take years until we find something in here. Either that or I'll break my neck trying to get to the top of the ladder."

"I would appreciate if you were careful enough to escape such a fate, Jim," Spock said as he closed the door, "It might be better if I were the one to climb the ladder."

Within the blink of an eye, Jim's entire demeanour changed into that of a cranky five-year-old, "I'm not stupid, Your Highness, I can climb a ladder without killing myself, thank you very much."

Spock was tempted to smash his head against one of the book-shelves, "I was not implying that you were incompetent, Jim, I am merely trying to keep you save."

The silence that followed kept stretching until it was thin and trembling with uncomfortable tension. Fascinated, Spock watched as Jim's eyes softened, his shoulders relaxing as his face took on the familiar, pinkish hue of a gentle, flattered, human blush. Finally, Jim turned and began to pull books out of the lower shelves. Taking this as a sign of acceptance, Spock started to climb the rungs of the tall, wooden ladder, plucking various books containing Vulcan history out of the large shelves.

Hours later they had managed to empty almost an entire book-shelf, towers of books piling up around them, imitating a kind of fortress as they huddled together between them, flipping through one of the more fragile books together. Jim was leaning against Spock's side, already yawning as he helped Spock turn the next page, cautious as to not damage the thin, almost see-through paper. The next page held another note.

"Your Highness, you are a genius," Jim grinned.

"Spock,"

Jim's grin faltered and his face was overtaken by a confused expression, "Excuse me?"

"Call me Spock, Jim."

The smile that bloomed on Jim's lip was radiant enough to tickle an answering smile out of Spock. Well, almost.

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><p>Oh! I forgot to say it's unbetaed, so, yeah :) Any ideas as to who TSK is? *scratches head* hmm...<p> 


	18. Chapter 17: Shake It Out

I. Am. So. Sorry!

I know, it took way too long to get this chapter out. Gosh, I'm so ashamed of myself... Guh.

Sixten: Maybe, maybe not... :)

meakamaxwell: Glad you like my stories! :D

Talltree-san: I think he heard your growl, missy. You get an "A" for Awesome from me, btw. ;)

Kim: I'm mean? Sorry! Haha, keep deducing, Sherlock ;) Oooh, the tree... I was wondering when someone was gonna comment on that. Hehe.

Little Devil: Uhm... glad you enjoy the story. I think you are very rude though. Joanna is a small child that has done nothing wrong and I apologise if you find her annoying. I would prefer if you kept your rather hurtful opinions to yourself, though, if you cannot offer any sort of advice on how to change the fact that Joanna is, apparently, annoying. :)

Adrianna: Haha, glad you enjoyed it!

moonflower: Oh dear, you really like the story huh? :)

Okay, it's unbetaed, but I hope I didn't miss too many typos. To my defence, I'm sick right now, haha.

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 17: Shake it Out

The note was written by another this time, the font a tight, neat scrawl. Jim furrowed his brows, the elongated l's and g's reminded him of the way Spock's own handwriting looked, influenced by the complicated symbols of the Vulcan alphabet.

_I was unable to attend our meeting due to a disturbance in the west wing caused by an intruder. I apologise. However, I was able to retrieve the missing documents from the Library of Gol. We shall meet in my room in two days. _

_I am also still of the opinion that writing into books is not the correct way to treat an author's work._

_S._

Jim groaned, "Another initial? Are you kidding me? At least we know this guy is a Vulcan."

Spock lifted an eyebrow to look at Jim, "May I inquire how you came to this conclusion, Jim?"

"Well, first, the style of writing. It obviously indicates that the one who put the note here learned to write in Vulcan first. You can see it in the way the letters are stretched and curled in some places. Second, seriously? Read the note again! It practically screams 'I'm Vulcan!' I mean, the last sentence is totally something you'd say!"

The Prince's other eyebrow rose in a display of wonderment, but he nodded slowly nonetheless, "I believe you are correct."

"Why, thank you, Spock," and damn, did it feel strange to say the Vulcan-hybrid's name.

"If the initial stands for a Vulcan name, he or she must have been living in the palace," Spock mused, running his hand over the page, "The writing seems familiar..."

"What do you mean?"

"I... am sure that I have seen this font before," Spock traced the curled 'S' with the tip of his elegant index finger, "But I do not know where."

"Maybe you've seen a note before, but you just didn't register it?"

"I highly doubt this, Jim:"

He rolled his eyes at the Prince, "It happens, Spock. But alright. Any idea _where_ you could have seen it?"

"The only logical answer is that I might have seen it in my Father's office upon a document. The person who wrote this note might have been an acquaintance of my Father."

Jim grinned mischievously, "I have a feeling that we'll have to do another Mission Impossible rendition here."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, "Are you suffering from the illusion that you are Ethan Hunt, Jim?"

Baffled, Jim felt his mouth drop open. Not only had Spock just clearly made a joke, no, he was obviously quite well versed when it came to knowing old, Terran movies and bands. Jim wrapped his arms around Spock's neck and sighed a dramatic sigh, "Oh, Spock, my Prince, where have you been all my life?"

Spock blinked, once, twice and Jim was unprepared when the Vulcan-hybrid leaned closer until their foreheads touched, "Right here, Jim."

Jim's stomach seemed to detach itself from his body and perform one nauseating loop after the other. What had just happened? Weren't they joking around? Not anymore, apparently. He wanted to diffuse the bombshell between them, maybe make a quip at the cheesiness of the situation, but his mind had gone blank. A shaky breath stuttered through Jim's parted lips as he breathed in Spock's scent. Unwittingly, he tightened his hold around the Prince's neck. He had been keeping his distance for weeks, not even wanting to speak to the hybrid at first, why could he not stay away from him now? It was like something had broken inside him and released a sort of demon that wanted nothing more than latch onto Spock's body like a leech. His head was reeling, his entire body tingled, caught between an urge to simply run from the room and the need to press himself up against that broad chest and kiss those minty lips.

_Concentrate_. They needed to concentrate on the notes.

Something thrummed between them, similar to a heartbeat, but less physical. A kind of thumping rhythm created by pulsing blood and swinging vocal folds, vibrating across the meagre distance left between their lips. Fragile, like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. Easily broken and only fixed with difficulty.

He heard Spock breathe out a shaky sigh, "Jim. I do not believe we will be able to postpone this conversation after all."

_Right, _that was it_. Fuck concentration_.

For the third time, Jim pressed his lips against the Vulcan-hybrid's cool mouth, not even bothering to answer. At the same time, Spock's hand moved to cradle the side of Jim's face. A second later, they were both falling.

..._the fog was thick around them, the glass floor beneath their feet covered by a thin layer of water, reflecting the greyish blue light coming from above. A trail of glowing, golden pearls lead into the misty depths of their odd surroundings, lying unmoving in the shallow water. _

_They clung to one another, the air around them made toxic with muddled emotion, threatening to choke them slowly, painfully. A bird's cry echoed through the silence, only once, fading into the stillness. The fog seemed viscid, sticking to their skin, bleaching it out until they looked like a pair of fresh canvas, waiting to be splattered with paint, drowned in colours and brought back to life. _

_Fingers touched rustling like snuffed out embers. A pulse of fire raced through dried out veins, setting their bones on fire, pumping smoke into their fire-breathing lungs. The white skin over their breastbones cracked, a bright, golden light began to shine through, blinding them. It was painful, yet pleasurable, a soothing agony that made no sense at all. It was as if they had been numb their entire life and had now finally gained the ability to feel. _

_The light exploded, becoming brighter than a newborn star before blinking out_...

Jim came to with a gasp, eyes wide as he stared at the ceiling. A book was pressing itself into his spine and a heavy weight was pinning him down onto the ground. Had he not been kissing Spock? A soft huff of hot air tickled against his neck, the cold tip of a nose pressed into the tender skin above his pulse point. For a short moment, the instinct to flee cut through him, before a wave of comfort swept over it.

"We just did something really stupid, didn't we?" Jim said into the silence.

Spock nodded, the bridge of his nose bumping against the underside of Jim's chin, "Indeed."

"Yeah. So, what _did_ we do?"

"I believe we accidentally caused the already present link between us to deepen. It is now visible," Spock's elegant hand settled above Jim's sternum, fingers spread and Jim shuddered at the ball of warmth knotting within his stomach, "This has become complicated rather fast."

"Really, I hadn't noticed...," Jim mumbled, "Say, Spock. Does this mean you're practically cheating on your future wife with me?"

"Essentially."

"Great. So... what do we do now? Break the link?"

Jim instantly regretted opening his mouth, when Spock became rigid, a low, threatening growl rumbling through the Vulcan-hybrid's muscled torso. Quickly figuring that the last thing they would do was break the link connecting them, Jim patted Spock's back, feeling slightly awkward while doing so, "Calm down, it was just a suggestion, we won't break anything, alright? Spock! Would you stop that already!"

The snarling cut off abruptly and Jim was confronted with two wide, dark eyes, staring down at him, much too open for someone usually so repressed. Jim blinked. Had the Prince always been this easy to read? It was as if Jim had had his eyes closed the entire time, blind to all the tiny nuances of emotion that constantly flashed through the Vulcan's eyes. Sure, Spock had always been a little easier to catch at displaying emotion, but this was... it was like every little twitch had been magnified for Jim's ordinary human eyes, allowing him to _see_.

Spock had pushed himself up, hovering over him and Jim felt trapped, staring up at the Prince, who had suddenly turned into a predator wrapped in flimsy patches of Vulcan skin. It should have scared him. It _did_ scare him on a superficial level, but beneath that fear there was a need to invite the creature buried underneath Spock's flesh in. Something told Jim that he had already done so by allowing the protective shell around himself to crack. The Vulcan had wormed underneath his skin, slowly chipped away at the walls of pretended arrogance and cut down the net of carefully erected mesh-wire fences of anger and distrust.

It left him vulnerable, breakable. Captured.

Something fierce and, dare he say, possessive, flashed through Spock's dark eyes. Jim watched those dark orbs slide closed and barely a heartbeat later, his own lids shut at the feel of Spock's lips upon his own. They moved away too quickly, leaving a warm tingle behind alongside an unexplainable feeling of loss that was quickly replaced by a wave of bright warmth and a mental caress that made his innermost core shudder with delight.

Jim lifted one hand to cradle Spock's cheek, thumbing the soft skin beneath Spock's lower lid, "This... this bond... it's going to cause some major troubles when your Father finds out about it, Spock."

"I am aware of this, Jim," Spock said quietly.

"Then why the hell does it feel so..." Nice. Good. Perfect.

A soft sigh slinked through Spock's lips, "A bond is neither good nor bad, Jim. The situation it has been created in is less than ideal that is true. But the bond itself does not care for these kinds of things, it is the manifestation of a connection that has been there for a while but needed to be acknowledged in some form. Whether or not this acknowledgement has been a conscious one is of no matter either, our minds recognized each other on a mental level that is so deeply buried within us, that it would have been impossible to stop the linking, even if we had been aware of it."

"So this would have happened even if we had not... kissed?"

"Not exactly. The link was already forming before we became... close. It might have started weeks ago. I am tempted to believe that its creation took place the first time we spoke, considering how deep the connection is seated-"

"Wait! The first time we talked to each other! But... I didn't even like you back then! I thought you were a stupid, Vulcan asshat!"

"One day, you will have to explain this particular word creation to me, Jim."

"_Spock_. We're fucking bonded. Or at least half-way there. Why am I the only one freaking out?"

"Jim-"

"No! Shut your piehole and listen to me. You are the Prince of Vulcan. You are going to marry in what... three months?"

"3.5 months."

"Whatever! Fact is, we're in big trouble if this gets out. Especially since neither of us wants to break that damn link and-"

Spock's hand was suddenly covering his mouth, preventing him from speaking, "You do not wish to break it?"

A strange mixture of disbelief and awe swirled in the chocolate brown depths of Spock's eyes. Jim swallowed thickly, shaking his head slowly. A relieved sigh slipped through Spock's green-tinted lips and Jim felt those same lips press against his forehead, "Spock... it would be easier if... if we got rid of it, wouldn't it? I mean... for you."

Spock growled, "Jim, have you forgotten who I am? Who my parents are? Yes, I may be the Prince of Vulcan, but I am also the product of a marriage that should not be."

"Yes, a marriage that has been cocooned in lies," Jim snapped, "I don't want to live in the shadows, Spock. I don't want to be... to be your concubine!"

The Prince blinked slowly and Jim felt his cheeks heating up, but he did not back down. Neither of them spoke. Suddenly, Spock ducked his head, an odd snort ripping through the awkward silence and Jim was flabbergasted when he realised that Spock had almost _laughed_, "A...are you laughing at me, you stupid elf?"

"I apologise," Spock looked up, eyes crinkled and sparkling with mirth, "Jim, I would not even consider making you my... 'concubine'. I do not wish to hide you, Jim. There should not be a reason for me to hide you. But I would rather flee the galaxy than break our bond simply because it may prove... easier."

"Geez, Spock. It's just me. Plain old Jim from Iowa. You're putting your _life_ at risk for a stupid hick from Earth. And for what? For some weird link that-"

"_James_."

Spock's voice slit through his rant, deep and rough, almost a snarl in its harshness. Broad, cold hands cradled Jim's face between their soft palms, "I may not know what emotion it is I am experiencing whenever I am in your presence, but I am certain that I wish to explore it further. I wish to see what you and I will come to mean to one another in the following years. I want you to stay with me. I want to keep you. It is entirely selfish and I am fully aware that this is the kind of behaviour other Vulcans would shun me for... but... I have long stopped caring about their opinions. I know what I am and if there is ever any sort of hope for me to balance myself, I need to bring peace to the two worlds I have been born into first. To accomplish this, however, I will need your help, Jim."

Jim swallowed. A tiny voice kept screaming 'chick-flick alarm!' but he pointedly ignored it, "Why would you need my help? You're doing perfectly fine on your own-"

"No. I am doing 'fine' now. I have not before," Spock's thumb swiped over his cheekbone, "And neither have you. Am I wrong?"

"I...," Jim was speechless.

Spock's mouth twitched upwards and he finally removed himself from Jim to stand, holding out a hand, "I am pleased that we have come to an understanding, Mr. Kirk."

With a huff, Jim grasped the broad hand, letting himself be pulled up by the taller male, "You mean, you're pleased the Humans were once again overruled by the Vulcans, Your Highness."

Spock lifted an eyebrow and tangled their fingers together intimately, "You do not appear to be particularly... upset about me overruling you, Jim."

"Don't look so smug, you overgrown space-elf," Jim mumbled, flustered by the implication of the unexpected quip, "I should be running from you. I should have hightailed it out of here after the first kiss. But no, apparently, the Kirks lack the gene for self-preservation. And... I've been running away my whole life. I think it's high time that I stop and face the music."

He dropped his head against Spock's chest, breathing in the Vulcan-hybrid's earthy scent, body relaxing and leaning limply against the Prince.

Spock's hand slid into the curls at the back of Jim's hand, fingertips cool against his scalp. The link between them flared up once more, warm and bright and _safe_. It wrapped itself around them, tighter than a Mother's embrace and more fragile than a spider web in the early morning. There was not blockade, nothing to straighten out the tangling, flowing streams of thoughts and sensations running, it was a conduit between their very beings. A wide open conduit that could prove itself difficult to deal with in everyday life.

Jim felt Spock's mental fingers stroking the delicate construct. A shudder trickled down Jim's spine and he was almost disappointed when the sensation dimmed, leaving a pleasant hum behind, nestled within the very depths of his mind, safe and calming in its presence. Spock took a step back, eyes half-lidded as he met Jim's bleary gaze, "I have blocked the larger connections that the link formed, however, I am unable to access all of them, since I cannot simply venture into your mind and raise shields that you should be building yourself. I will teach you how to shield in the next few days."

"Okay...," Jim nodded rubbing his aching lids, "We should... should get back to our research."

"Indeed."

They sat back down. Shifting uncomfortably, Jim slid his hand out of Spock's to reach for the book in which they had found the last note. Grunting at the weight, he lifted it onto his lap. The Prince reached out, dragging the heavy textbook halfway out of Jim's grasp, "Perhaps it would be advisable to set it onto the ground, Jim. It is clearly too large for you to hold."

"I can do it, Spock, don't baby me."

"I am doing no such thing," Spock tugged the book fully out of Jim's grip and set it down onto the floor, flipping it open carefully before settling down on his stomach.

Jim bit his lower lip, chewing on the dry skin and finally plopped down beside the Vulcan-hybrid with a loud, exasperated sigh, "You're so stubborn."

"My Father told me it was one of the traits I inherited from Mother," Spock answered smoothly, gently turning the pages, dark eyes skimming the pages quickly, "Am I making you uncomfortable, Jim?"

"Are you reading my thoughts?"

"No," Spock turned his head to look at him, their noses brushing, "You are merely broadcasting too vividly, Jim. Once you are able to shield, this will not be a problem any longer, however. I apologise for intruding."

"You... you're not intruding, I just... gosh, Spock, what do you want from me? We were enemies until a few weeks ago and now we're kissing practically everytime we look at each other! It's kind of screwing with my head, since I can't comprehend that a simple mind link can just... I mean... geez..."

Defeated, Jim let his forehead drop to the floor. Had he been attracted to Spock before all this? He remembered when he walked in on him training that one time Joanna decided to drag him through the palace. Remembered a muscled chest, the flushed skin and olive coloured nipples. It was like a Greek god had descended from the Olympus and decided to take the next shuttle to Vulcan. He had definitely been attracted to _that_. How had he not noticed? Hell, when Spock showed him that crystal cave, they had been practically having unprotected eye-sex since then. Jim groaned softly.

Spock nudged his shoulder against Jim's, "Jim? What are you thinking about? You appear flustered."

"Don't pretend you don't know every single dirty thought I just had about you, you space elf."

Spock was silent for a moment. A second later, Jim yelped when a rough tongue lapped at the ridge of his ear. Sitting up to glare at the Vulcan, he tried to get his furiously blushing face under control, "What the hell, Spock?"

The Prince lifted an eyebrow and turned back to the book in front of him without offering an explanation.

Miffed, Jim gave a sharp tug to Spock's ear, earning a surprised hum, "Jim?"

"You're so annoying. Why do I like you so much?"

A pleased purr answered him, "The same reason why I am drawn to you. You fascinate me, Jim."

"That's hardly a reason."

"It is for me," Spock rolled onto his back, leaning up on his elbows, "My Mother says that there is no logical reason as to why people become attracted to one another. It is a combination of various factors that finally determine the depth and type of relationship two people share."

Jim chuckled and scooted a little closer to the Prince, reaching out to play with the Royal Crest dangling from a golden chain around Spock's neck. The design intrigued him. Although it seemed very old, it was meticulously polished, the jade green stones contrasting with the few, bloody red diamonds that sat within the viridescent spiral that was depicted by the jade stones on the relatively small, circular, golden plate that was the crests basis. The Old Vulcan sigils for Surak's name were carved into the middle of the loosely curled spiral. The core of the pendant was framed by the words _k'lalatar prkori k'lalatar prnak'lirli_. Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. Jim smiled. _How fitting_.

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><p>Okay, that's it. Crappy ending, I know :)<p> 


	19. Chapter 18: I'm Going Slightly Mad

First... I'm really, really, really sorry. I got swallowed by real life and University was being irrationally mean to me too. But I'm back and yaiy, I wrote this thing in three days, so... holy hell.

Kim: Glad you liked it! And... nope, I don't think Sybok has anything to do with it... :)

meakamaxwell: I'm so sorry it took so long!

Talltree-san: Oh goodness... Pervy woman...

lex: Thank you!

Okay, this Chapter is unbetaed, sorry for the typos, I just wanted to give you guys something to read, I'll try to get rid of all the errors once my laptop stops being a jerk :) Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 18: I'm Going Slightly Mad

Nine days later they had sifted through the entirety of the Palace's library and collected numerous notes from the mysterious duo. Jim had more than once lost his patience and rolled off Spock's bed where they had taken residence to analyse the writings, only to complain about having hurt himself while doing so.

At the moment, the young man was seated in front of Spock's comm. unit, waiting for his brother Samuel to answer the call. When he finally did, Jim immediately launched into a long string of inquiries regarding Samuel's general well-being and if Aurelan had still not grown tired of him. Spock watched the exchange between the two brothers, feeling his mouth twitch upwards at its corners in response to the smile on Jim's face.

"_Still not bored being around those Pokerfaces all the time? No offence, Your Highness."_

"No offence taken, Samuel."

"_You gotta teach him to call me Sam, Jimmy. He's freaking me out by calling me 'Samuel'."_

Jim laughed. "Believe me, Sam, no matter what I do, he'll continue calling you by your name, just to make you uncomfortable. Spock's funny like that."

"_O-ho, first name basis? Geez, Jimmy, slow down a little, would you?"_

"Shut up, Sam."

During the past week they had tried to stay apart, at least in an emotional sense, but they had barely managed to do so for three days. By the fourth day, Jim had crawled into Spock's bed in the middle of the night, whispering that he was unable to sleep, speaking of a pull inside his chest that dragged him back to Spock. Since then, the younger man had been invading Spock's bed as soon as it was dark enough within the palace's halls to hide his nightly journey. What Spock had not yet told Jim was the fact that he had been fighting their link's side effects too, but his resistance had only made them stronger.

"_So, what're you working on, Jimmy_?" Samuel asked, voice tinged with curiosity and amusement.

"Oh, just the usual... translations, interpretations..."

"_Sure. And now the truth, please. I can see the lie dancing on the tip of your nose, Jimmy_."

"Really?" Jim asked, pretending to be genuinely surprised and even batting at his own nose to dispel the 'lie'. "Where?"

"_Jim, I'm trying to be serious here_."

"Fine," Jim leaned forward. "I'll tell you. There's a giant gap within the history of Vulcan. Spock and I are trying to fill it."

"_That's... interesting. Am I right in guessing that you're not going about this the legal way_?"

"Not...not entirely, no."

Spock tuned them out. Samuel would never consider divulging the information Jim was telling him to anyone and the comm. link they were communicating on was safe. Standing, he made his way to the meditation mat on the ground, sitting down and straightening his back as he breathed in the fresh air coming from the opened balcony door. He let the air flow from his mouth and closed his eyes.

T'Pring would be arriving in three days. He would need to find a way to keep her from discovering their secret. But how would he hide a link already strong enough to draw them together and cause discomfort whenever they were apart?

Spock feared that the bond would only strengthen over time to the point where breaking it would cause a psychic backlash violent enough to damage both of their minds irrevocably. The thought alone made him shudder. However, so did the thought of dissolving the link now. Neither option appealed to him. But there was no other way. If the link was discovered at the ceremony it would cause the largest scandal in the history of Vulcan, which was something he could not risk at the moment, since it would not only endanger his family, but also Jim and everyone who knew about his secret.

Spock exhaled a long sigh and finally dropped into his mind.

He was immediately engulfed by light and let himself be tugged into the brightness of their link. For a while he simply let himself drift in the stream of warm starlight, mental eyes closed against the brightness. His mindscape had been shifting constantly and although the chaos should have corroded his shields the opposite was the case. His barriers were strengthening, blossoming like they had never done before. It was as if Jim's presence was the rain to his desert, reviving what had been dried out by lies and the need to hide his very self from the world. Spock would be able to hide their link from T'Pring as long as she stayed out of his mind. At least, he hoped so.

A warm hand touched his shoulder and Spock peeled himself out of the folds of light he wrapped himself into, opening his eyes to meet Jim's. "May I help you?"

There was a familiar, feverish sheen covering those blue eyes. "I think we getting close to finding out who TSK is."

Spock blinked, rising to his feet. "We are?"

"Sam helped me hack into the databases on Earth. We managed to retrieve the files with the names of everyone that had ever been shipped to Vulcan due to being sold into slavery or something similar," Jim said, breathless and his hands dancing through the air in nervous flicks and waves. "We found fifteen names that fit the time and initials. He'll work through them now."

"That is very... 'nice' of him," Spock muttered, glancing at the chronometer above the door.

He had been lost in his own mind for 3.2 hours. Spock straightened his back and tilted his head to the left as he regarded Jim. The younger man was shaking with excitement and the gleam in his eyes made them almost glow with something that bordered on insanity. "A little more enthusiasm please, Spock!"

"Woohoo." Spock said, voice just as calm as always.

"_Ha_-fuckedy-_ha_. You're a freaking riot, Prince," Jim grinned and reached out, fiddling with the buttons on Spock's shirt before catching the Royal Crest in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the inscriptions. "The question is if anyone cared to keep records of that sort of thing. Does it matter if people like me land in a brothel or get buried in the Mines?"

"It matters to me."

"I wouldn't be talking to you if it didn't, Spock."

Spock's mouth twitched upwards and he captured Jim's hand in his own. "We have yet to discover who is hiding behind the second initial, Jim."

"Yeah..." Jim took a step forward, pressing his face against Spock's throat, exhaling and sending a shudder down his spine. "But... Spock, what will we do if we find out who is behind the letter S and we're still stuck? T'Pring will arrive at the palace in three days and we've not come any closer to finding out what happened back then. I don't... I don't think I can stand to see her with you. I don't want her to be with you. Not now. Not ever. But...," Jim gave a high-pitched, distorted giggle, "I sound like a teenage girl!"

Spock lifted both eyebrows before wrapping his arms around the slender body pressed against his own, burying his nose in the blonde mane tickling the underside of his chin. Was the depth of their relationship thought to be unhealthy if you took into consideration that they had not spoken a word to one another a few weeks prior? If so, was 'love at first sight' a sign of mental disturbance and those who experienced it should visit a psychiatrist? Spock blinked a slow, deliberate blink. What an odd train of thought. "I do not wish to be with T'Pring either, Jim. But I cannot change it now without endangering everyone within the palace. My Father would lose his credibility and my Mother's secret might be uncovered. I cannot let that happen. First, I need to find out what truly happened when Vulcan took over Romulan and if we discover a scandal big enough to make my heritage seem negligible, then we will be able to work on our... dilemma."

"It might take years, Spock," Jim uttered.

"I am sorry, Jim."

Jim leaned back to look up at him, a tiny smile on his lips. "Being sorry is illogical if it's not your fault."

Spock shook his head once and released Jim from his embrace.

They seated themselves between the papers strewn across Spock's bed and began their search for new clues once more.

2.4 hours later, Spock found another note wedged between the last two pages of Vulcan: A Geographic Guide. He waited patiently for Jim to climb over opened books and shove away loose sheets of paper, finally settling beside Spock to read the note.

_The sole reason why no one has yet discovered our correspondence is that barely anyone within the palace cares to learn the English language, Rius. Additionally, I must advise you to stay away from the xirahnahs, their beaks are rather sharp and I do not think you would enjoy another stay at the medical bay. _

_I believe I have discovered another missing piece, but I will need your assistance in deciphering it my eyesight has deteriorated and I will see the Doctor in 4.5 days to remedy the problem. If this will cause another one of your jokes concerning my age, I shall remind you that you are merely two years younger than me. Furthermore, it is not me who complains about back pains every morning. _

_I believe it would be prudent to remove our notes from the books from now on. I do not wish for my Father to discover them. _

_S._

"'Rius'?" Jim whined. "I'm gonna go crazy! Everytime we take a step forward there's new information that makes us take two steps back! Who the hell is this Rius?"

"I assume it is the one the note is addressed to."

"Spock. Do you want me to hit you?"

"Not in particular. No," Spock said. "What I was trying to say was that it might be a sort of... 'nickname'. Similar to you being called Jim instead of James."

Jim shuddered and Spock felt a wave of concern sweep through him but it dissipated almost immediately when Jim gave a lazy grin. "You know, I always hated my name, but when you say it..."

Spock raised an eyebrow and turning his head to nip at Jim's earlobe. "Be silent."

"Oh please, Spock, you're feeling pretty smug right now, aren't you?"

"I have told you before, Vulcans do not feel."

"Yeah. They don't snuggle either, huh?"

A sharp bite to the upper ridge of Jim's ear elicited a loud yelp from the younger man. Jim slapped Spock's chest with his palm, moving away to glare at him. Spock responded with a lazy blink and leaned forward to press his lips against Jim, ignoring the surprised squeak and the hands batting against his shoulders. 3.6 seconds later, Jim relaxed against Spock, his slender arms rising to loop themselves around Spock's neck, fingers weaving themselves into the short hair at the back of his neck.

A pleased, rumbling purr vibrated through Spock's chest and he felt Jim huff out an amused breath through his nose. They moved apart when the comm. unit gave a shrill beep, indicated that a message had been received. Spock furrowed his brows marginally and detached himself from Jim to slip off the bed. The screen was blinking and as he touched it to open the message, he was surprised at the simple document that appeared, fifteen names typed into it. One of them had been bolded and coloured a bright red.

Tiberius Samuel Kirk.

"Jim."

He felt Jim's presence settled beside him on the chair. "That... that can't be... is Sam serious? Grandpa was on Vulcan?"

"A...remarkable coincidence," Spock muttered.

Jim gave an incredulous snort, "'Remarkable' doesn't even cut it, Spock."

Spock straightened his back and tilted his head to the left as he regarded Jim. The younger man was shaking with excitement and the gleam in his eyes made them almost glow with something that bordered on insanity. "I know! But... if it was really my grandfather... which would make sense since, from what I heard, the guy was just as much of a trouble maker as I am then we would have a better chance at getting an answer as to what happened."

Spock nodded, glancing at the small note written in italics at the end of the document.

_Gonna go ask Grandma if she knows anything about this. Maybe Grandpa Tibbs told her something. Contact you again in two days. This is getting really exciting! Love, Sam_

"Sam's such a dork," Jim chuckled and shook his head. "This is getting crazier by the minute. I mean, how big are the chances?"

"Approximately-"

Jim waved his hand through the air, cutting him off. "Spock. Rhetorical question."

"Ah, yes, of course. I apologise."

"No problem. We'll make a human out of you yet."

"I see no reason to stand here and be insulted," Spock said smoothly, ignoring the laughter bubbling out of Jim's throat, turning to walk towards his meditation mat.

Upon settling down, he was a tad baffled when Jim plopped down in front of him, legs crossed in an imitation of Spock's own pose. "Are you going to meditate again?"

"Indeed."

"Can I join you? I mean, is that possible? I read about Betazoids meditating in groups, so..."

Spock reached out, taking Jim's hands into his own, pressing their palms together and shuddering at the feel of rough skin against sensitive nerves. "It is possible and it might be logical to meditate together now since I have yet to teach you to shield properly."

"Sounds good... so... what do I do?"

"Close your eyes. Relax your muscles and synchronize your breathing with mine."

Jim nodded, his eyes sliding shut and Spock waited until the younger man had relaxed himself, before closing his own eyes. They fell into a sort of rhythm, as Jim exhaled, Spock inhaled. After 4.5 minutes, not only Spock's heartbeat thrummed through his ears, but he was able to hear Jim's own. It beat slower than his Vulcan heart and Spock almost staggered in his concentration at the strange calmness. It did not seem to fit Jim's energetic self, was too laggard, too steady. With a slight shake of his head, Spock dispelled the thought and simultaneously pushed and pulled at Jim's mind.

As if they had tumbled forward and out of their bodies, they fell into their shared mindscape and _were promptly swallowed by cool night air. The ground beneath them was covered in knee-high grass and large, broad trees were scattered across the landscape. Their branches were bare of any sort of leafage. Instead, balloons were tied to them, bobbing in the wind while they glowed in a multitude of colours. _

_The sky was clear, littered with stars and no moon in sight. The thought alone made Spock hesitate for a second for Vulcan had no moon to begin with. A moment later he realised that it was Jim's confusion he had picked up on. _

_Jim's laughter echoed through the night and Spock turned his head to watch the younger man drop into the grass, disappearing between wild flowers and blades of grass. Spock cleared his throat and Jim sat up, the movement oddly flowing as if they were underwater. A smile lit the Human's face. _

_Spock held out his hand, waiting for Jim to grasp before pulling the man to his feet. Taking a step back, Spock began to weave a wall out of the night air between Jim and himself. Jim frowned, watching as the wind became glass, cold and thick, separating him from Spock. A minute later, Spock smashing his fist against the construct, shattering it, watching as the shards turned to dust and was carried away by the breeze. Jim instantly crossed the space, latching onto Spock, pressing against him, squeezing him as if they had come close to losing one another forever. _

_Spock gently extracted himself from Jim's embrace, turning the younger man around and taking hold of his wrists. Jim curled his hands into fists and let them slacken once more before letting Spock move them upwards. Guided a deeply seated instinct, Jim grasped into the wind, pulling out thread after thread, weaving a clumsy wall, brittle and uncoordinated, but it held. Spock let go of Jim's hands, pushing at the wall, watching as it instantly collapsed into itself and Jim deflated visibly, his back coming to rest against Spock's chest. _

_Spock kissed the nape of Jim's neck, almost smiling when the younger man straightened and began to build a new wall..._

Spock came to 5.7 hours later, his entire body aching. Jim had slumped forward, his head and chest resting on the mat while his legs remained crossed beneath him. Careful as to not wake the exhausted human, Spock lifted Jim into his arms, standing with a soft groan born from muscles protesting against moving after not having done so for hours. He carried Jim to the bed, settling him on the small space not covered in paper sheets before beginning to clear the books and papers off.

Jim had curled up around one of the pillows, both hands gripping the red fabric covering it tight, as if afraid to be taken away. Spock crawled onto the mattress, tugging Jim into his arms. The younger man fit perfectly against him, his slender form tucked into the curve of Spock's body as he slept.

Spock sighed and stroked his palm down Jim's back, counting the knobs of his spine beneath the shirt.

Jim had managed to master shielding quicker than he anticipated. However, it had taken almost two hours to convince Jim to shield his side of the link. Spock had agreed to leave a small thread open, not only of Jim's benefit, but also for his own. The moment that the growing connection had been shielded entirely, Jim's mind had almost flickered out due to the emotional strain and Spock, in a moment of animalistic desperation, had torn every single wall they had build back down.

He had almost abandoned the idea of shielding the forming bond after this occurrence, but they needed to be able to pretend it did not exist long enough to fool T'Pring until the wedding.

Spock clutched Jim tighter, ignoring the sleepy whine he received.

"'n't breathe, Sp'ck," Jim mumbled, pushing his face against Spock's collarbone and jabbing a toe into the Vulcan-hybrid's thigh.

"I apologise," Spock whispered, loosening his hold.

"'s okay." Jim's eyes opened and Spock regarded them with concern when he found the bright cerulean dulled. "'ren't you tired at all? I could sleep for days..."

"Then sleep, Jim. Learning to shield is a very exhausting process and you have mastered in a very short time. It is only logical that you are exhausted."

"Mhmm...," Jim hummed and shuffled even closer, his knees pressing into Spock's stomach.

Spock brushed one hand through the tousled, blonde mane almost hanging into Jim's eyes. The younger man gave a lazy smile, plump lips stretching to reveal a shimmer of white teeth. Tempted, Spock ducked his head and placed a small kiss to the edge of Jim's mouth. Jim sighed, a content, heavy exhalation of air, moving his arm to place his hand against Spock's cheek. His palm was warm against his cool skin and Spock was almost tempted to peel Jim out of his clothes to press himself against that hot skin.

But he did not. Instead he chose to curl up around Jim, intent on preserving this quiet moment.

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><p>Aaaaa~nd that was it. More to come! :)<p> 


	20. Chapter 19: Spectrum

Alright, guys. Sorry for the long wait. AGAIN.

Anyway, first things first: I changed the timeline a little, because, after thinking about it, I realised that humans should be able to get as old as Vulcans by the time they end up in the year this story takes place in. So...yeah. I just shifted Sarek's age around... I hope that makes at least some sort of sense.

Talltree-san: Actually, Vulcans are colder than Humans. Their average temperature lies at 91° F. You can look it up at the Star Trek Memory Alpha. :)

Spirktrekker42: Thank you! :)

Kim: Sarek and secrets? Pshawww... maybe? ;) As you can see, life still gets in the way of writing, sorry about that...

Ithilien Archer: Hehe :) Dancing is always good.

Edit 8/27/2012: anon: Yes, I am aware it's not canon, so a 'canon' example then. McCoy calls Spock's blood 'ice-water', which, for me, means his general temperature should be lower too, right? Is that more to your liking?

Alrightey, it's not betaed but I tried to find every error I made while throwing this monstrosity up. Enjoy! :)

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds <strong>

Chapter 19: Spectrum

Two days passed in which they waited for Sam to comm. them. Jim had taken to setting up camp in front of the comm. unit in Spock's room in case his brother called. Spock, ever the watchful guardian, had dragged him away from the screen twice already today to urge him to eat and sleep. To appease the Prince, Jim had taken a catnap of two hours and stuffed his face with noodles and _plomeek_ sauce, only to seat himself in front of the screen again.

Which was exactly where he was sat now; leaning against Spock's side, his cheek resting on the Vulcan-hybrid's shoulder. Sam had yet to call, but Jim had never been disappointed by him and he was sure Sam would not start with that particular habit now.

"Jim, maybe you should lie down and rest some more."

"No, I can't I need to know if Grandpa Tibbs was the one writing these notes."

"You have barely slept at all, Jim. It is not healthy."

Jim waved him off, sitting up when the comm. unit began to beep and reaching out to accept the call. Sam's flushed face appeared on the screen, snow covering his dark hair as he grinned in greeting. "_You won't believe what Granma told me, Jimmy._"

"How about you tell me and I can decide whether I do believe you or not afterwards?"

"_Of course, sorry._" Sam gave a sheepish shrug. "_Apparently, Grandpa Tibbs was really on Vulcan. When our grand grandpa lost his job and could not pay his debts any longer that had accumulated after paving to pay for that knee operation he had. He should have been sent to Vulcan to work for whatever sum of money he owed, but due to the weakened joints in his knees, they decided to take the next best thing; our grandpa. Somehow, Grandpa Tibbs ended up working at the Royal Palace and Grandma showed me a few notes that Grandpa took with him. I asked her if I could take them with me, because, this is what makes this entire thing even more of an unbelievable coincidence; Grandpa Tibbs was writing notes with Prince Skon of Vulcan._"

Jim blinked, feeling Spock freeze beside him. "Are you trying to tell me that our Grandpa and Spock's grandpa were BFFs?"

Sam rolled his eyes at Jim, shoulders heaving with a large, exasperated sigh. "_If I weren't aware of the fact that you turned seventeen already I would have thought I was talking to a twelve-year-old, but yes, they were... friends, I guess. As much as that applies to Vulcans, no offence, Your Highness._"

"None taken, Samuel."

"_Anyway, as far as the notes say, Prince Skon helped Grandpa Tibbs escape after two years of him being in the Palace by smuggling him onto a cargo ship to Earth. Grandpa also says something about a gigantic conspiracy within the Vulcan government and the numbers 12, 3, 20 and 52 keep turning up..._," Sam huffed, glancing down and Jim assumed he had the notes spread out before himself, "_Was this in any way helpful to you? Because, to be honest, I have no fucking clue what to make of this._"

Jim snickered, nodding. "Doesn't matter, it helped a lot. Thanks, Sammy."

"_You're welcome, little brother._" Sam lifted his head, raising an eyebrow at Jim. "_I'll send you the notes I found when I have more time, I wasn't able to read through all of them since I needed to get back home. I'm pretty sure I missed some things that might be crucial for your research. Oh, and, just a well-meaning advice to you both... try not to get into any more trouble than you have to, to solve this, alright? And Jim... stop pawing at the Prince, yeah? It's getting a little disturbing. And kinda obvious._"

Jim shot up straight in his seat, blushing a bright red as he realised that he had scooted closer and closer to Spock while Sam talked. Spluttering, he tried to formulate a comeback, but Sam just laughed at him, before excusing himself and the screen went black.

"I hate him, sometimes," Jim grumbled, rubbing at his heated cheeks.

Spock did not speak and wrapped his arms around Jim's waist instead. With a soft sigh, Jim turned his head to bury his face in the crook of the Prince's throat. Jim breathed in the scent of sun-warmed skin and foreign herbs. A cool hand slid underneath his shirt, palm coming to rest in the dip of his spine.

"If your grandfather was the one who helped Grandpa Tibbs escape... do you think your father would know about it? I mean... he's pretty open about Humans, considering that he married your mother and had no qualms of taking me in... and... and it would explain why he decided I was worth the effort," Jim sat up again, excitement filling his chest, "But if he knew about it, why did he not try to investigate this thing himself? It doesn't make sense at all..."

"Indeed," Spock said. "I might be able to ask my Father about this, but I cannot promise it, Jim."

"I kind of doubt he will admit anything," Jim mumbled. "Hopefully those notes will reveal more details or at least give us a hint as to where we should look next."

Spock inclined his head once, lifting a hand to ghost his icy fingertips over Jim's cheek. Jim shuddered, brows furrowing as he looked at the Prince. "T'Pring will arrive tomorrow, Spock."

"I know," Spock whispered.

Biting his lip, Jim reached up to wrap his arms around the Vulcan-hybrid's neck, pushing his face against the soft skin of Spock's throat once more. By tomorrow they would need to stay apart as much as they were able to. It was easier to do so now that Jim was capable of shielding himself, but the strain that was put on the connection by the distance between them was still tangible and painful when ignored for too long. Gritting his teeth, Jim tightened the hold he had on the Prince, straddling his lap to get closer.

Spock's broad palm flattened over Jim's back, the other hand rising to tilt Jim's chin upwards to press their lips together. Jim relaxed against the Prince and chuckled against the taller man's mouth when Spock wrapped his arms around him to stand. The Prince walked a few steps and a second later, Jim felt himself fall, laughing as he was dropped onto the mattress, bouncing twice when he landed. "Spock!"

Spock tilted his head and was on the bed in a heartbeat, hovering above Jim with eyes darker than Vulcan's moonless night. Arms rising to wrap around Spock's neck, Jim pulled him down, touching their foreheads together as he closed his eyes. Warmth thrummed through the bond as the barriers untwined, like a blind being opened to let the light pour in. A shuddering sigh tumbled past Jim's teeth.

Spock settled down between Jim's legs, his body firm and heavy. Their chests touched and Jim felt his heartbeat speed up, moving his hand to rest it on the side of Spock's face, thumb brushing over the delicate skin underneath Spock's lower eyelid.

The Prince rubbed their noses together before he slanted his mouth over Jim's, tangling their tongues together and, with an odd push-and-pull sensation reverberating through Jim's head, he was tumbling down into their mindscape, _a coloured dimness surrounding him_. _Soft fabric was wrapped around his body, creating a cocoon of soft cloth. The light filtering through the gaps was golden and the sounds of rolling waves caught his ears when he shifted..._

Spock's cool mouth brushed down the curve of Jim's throat, tonguing the dip between his collarbones while his cold hands crawled under Jim's shirt.

_His hands were made of paper strips, fragile and cutting through the air as he moved within his cocoon. Bells were ringing in the distance, the wind circled his confines, wrapping around him like another layer of sheets. His chest was filled with water, cold and blue and filling the empty space where his heart should have been. A sea within a bone cage._

Jim let his shirt be tugged off, arching his back into Spock's touch. Broad palms smoothed down his chest, finger pads brushing over his nipples and sending bolts of electricity through his body. His eyes rolled up into their sockets, lashes fluttering as he lay gasping, chest lifting as his spine curved upwards into the sensation.

_Fingers pushed against silky soft fabric, legs stretching out like golden branches within a world of darkened colours as Jim began to emerge from his cocoon. The cloths clung to his body, wrapping around his waist, his arms, his shoulders, trailing after him as the cocoon dissolved into a tangled mess, lowering as it lost its stability. _

Jim's hands found their way around Spock's neck, his finger nails digging into the firm muscles of the Vulcan-hybrid's back. Lifting his legs he wrapped them around the slender waist between his thighs, ankles hooking together at the small of Spock's back. Barely a breath found its way into his lungs, leaving him dizzy and trembling underneath the taller man.

_Jim's feet sunk into the cool water underneath the unravelling cloth, sending shivers up his spine and a shaky breath through his mouth. A voice called his name, the sky was painted pale orange and pink, streaked with violet veins, the sun shining through the bend and twisted trees surrounding him, their roots curving out of the water and disappearing again. _

Spock's lips travelled downwards, over his nipples, peppering his sternum with kisses, licking stripes of his ribs and tonguing the dip of his navel. Jim's legs slid off Spock's back, spreading apart in an obscene display of pleasure, breath catching when Spock's mouth came to a halt at the hem of his jeans. Nimble fingers undid the button, pulling the zipper down with excruciating slowness.

_The fabric dragged after him through the water like a bride's gown, slowing his gait as he approached the voice that called to him. His hands reached out for the air in front of him, head tilted upwards and eyes half-lidded. He was a sleepwalker that was wide awake._

His pants were tugged down and flung off the bed, leaving him naked, bare to eyes that saw further than the surface. Jim was panting, lids heavy over his unfocused eyes, his hands useless as they scrambled for purchase, nails leaving green trails on Spock's pale skin. Forming the Prince's name with his mouth, his vocal folds unwilling to create a sound, he watched as Spock dipped his head, silky black hair fanning out as he rested his cheek against Jim's risen thigh.

_Jim climbed onto a flat rock protruding from the shallow water, back straight, hips unsteady as he gazed into the distance. His lips parted, the blue water from the empty space between his ribs dribbling from his mouth and down his chin. The voice kept calling for him, the wind tousling his hair as he slid off the rock to continue down the broad expanse of water. _

A cool puff of air escaped Spock's mouth and Jim released a soft groan as it hit the sensitive flesh of his erection. A flat, rough tongue lapped at the side of his cock and he keened in response, one hand fisting into Spock's hair, the other dropping to clutch at the sheets underneath him.

_He could barely see through his lashes, his lids were so heavy, so easy to shut and so difficult to open again. The sun erupted into a bright supernova, drowning the sky with black and littering it with stars, tiny flames collecting on the water's surface, dancing in the gentle breeze. _

Jim's brain short-circuited when Spock's cool lips wrapped around the head of his cock, mouth hanging open in a soundless utterance of pleasure, eyes screwed shut. He only just kept himself from bucking into the cool mouth, groaning when Spock began to relax his throat to take more of his length. Jim was soon reduced to a mess of shaking bones and skin.

_Jim came to a halt, gazing into the starlit night above him, arms spread as if he was trying to catch the falling lights and keep them from becoming one of the many dancing flames upon the water's surface. He breathed out, more water spilling from his lips and painting his throat ice blue. _

The Prince pulled off him, mouth leaving with a vulgar 'pop' and Jim, caught in a daze, listened as Spock divested himself of his clothes. Somehow he was able to push up to watch the muscles play underneath pale skin, licking his lips when his eyes came to rest upon the jutting, green cock between the Vulcan's legs. Spock coated his fingers with clear lube, dropping the bottle onto the mattress before moving closer to Jim again. Their eyes met.

_The wind had warmed, stroking across Jim's face in a gentle caress. He could no longer hear the voice. Instead he was able to detect someone running towards him, feet splashing into the water in the distance. A smile bloomed on his blue-tainted lips when the dark figure emerged from in-between the tree trunks. Another rainfall of stars lit the area around him; more flames began their obscure dance where the stars sunk beneath the water. _

Slick fingers pushed into him, one after the other, spreading apart and opening him up. Jim moaned at the ceiling, lids sliding shut and knees trembling. His hips rocked, stuttering when Spock's long fingers grazed the sensitive nub inside of him, setting his core on fire.

_Cold hands on his face, thumbs brushing over the blue covering his mouth and smearing it across his cheeks like war paint. Dark eyes ghosted across his body, drawing lines and charting the canyons and cliffs of his torso. Jim lifted a hand, resting it against Spock's cheek, tracing his fingers over the sharp cheekbones down to the angular jaw. Wet cloth slid down his hips landing in the water and tangling around their feet. _

Spock crawled over Jim, inching into him until he bottomed out. Jim's mouth opened, not a sound escaping him as his eyes stared at the ceiling unseeing. Pain radiated through him and his lungs had ceased functioning for a brief second before he was able to draw in a shuddering breath. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around Spock's neck, pulling him down to kiss him, eyes sliding shut as he relaxed.

_The burning rain turned their skin into a glowing sheet of light. The water at their feet swished around their toes, lapping at their ankles. Jim curled forward into Spock's embrace, chest pressed to chest, ribs melting into each other, spilling the rest of the water inside the unfilled hole. It evaporated into blue steam, getting replaced by torrid heat that scorched his insides. _

A gust of air escaped Jim's lips, puffing against Spock's cheek. The Prince moved, slow and careful, pulling out, then pushing forward again. Pain and pleasure rippled through Jim's abdomen, a soft moan joined the sound of the sheets shifting underneath Jim's body. Spock kissed his neck, sharp canines scraping over the delicate skin covering Jim's jugular vein. Their hips rocked together in languid undulations, the atmosphere soft and quiet and sunlit. The only noise were Jim's tiny exclamations of pleasure and the Prince's low humming that accompanied the nips he was peppering Jim's throat with.

_They sunk into the water, legs intertwined, breathing each other's air. Branches stretched themselves out above them, unfurling from their curled positions to create a cathedral-like ceiling. Jim met Spock's eyes as his body continued to heat up until he felt like he would turn to ash any moment._

Heat pooled low in Jim's stomach, his breathing hitched and his nails scraped green rivers up Spock's back. Spock's hips snapped forward, harder than before and his teeth buried themselves in the juncture of Jim's neck.

_The world around them shrunk to the size of a dust particle before exploding outwards, raining gold and silver across the black sky._

Jim shuddered through the aftershocks of his climax, moaning softly when he felt Spock stiffen and release inside him. The Prince detached his mouth from Jim's flesh, blood clinging to the swollen lips before it was licked off. Spock gazed down at Jim, pupils widened, spots of apple green on his cheeks and an upward tilt to the corners of his mouth. For a moment, Jim wanted to ask what had happened, what had led to this, but all he managed was a lazy smile. The smile sat so comfortably on his face that it refused to fade even as Spock pulled out and the cum he had left inside his body began to trickle out to soak into the sheets.

The Vulcan-hybrid moved to the side, tugging him into a scrunched up position, legs curled against Spock's stomach, head resting on the Prince's arm.

It was quiet for a while, the wind brushing over their bodies from the open windows. Jim drifted through the quieting space of their mindscape, too tired to remove himself from the warmth oozing out of the strengthened link between Spock and him. He felt like his body was rocking from side to side, like a paper-ship on a river, sailing down and towards an unknown goal.

A thought registered in his head. The windows had been open and Spock's room faced the garden. Someone must have heard them. There was no other way around it. A dark flush heated his cheeks and he suppressed a groan at the embarrassment coursing through him.

Spock shifted, giving a questioning hum in response to Jim's sudden restlessness.

After a minute of silence, Jim spoke up to clarify, "I hope no one heard us."

Spock chuckled and Jim almost sat up in shock at the unfamiliar sound tumbling from the Prince's mouth. "I sincerely doubt anyone heard us, Jim. Do not worry about it."

"Yeah, well, no one heard _you_, that's for sure...," Jim mumbled, nuzzling his nose against Spock's cool skin. "Congratulations, by the way. You took my virginity."

"I am aware," Spock answered, not a hint of mocking in his voice. "You did enjoy it, did you not?"

"Enjoy it? _Hell, yeah_."

Spock's eyes softened further, his broad hand brushing down Jim's spine. Jim grinned, hooking one of his legs over the dip of Spock's waist. They lay in silence once more, listening to the birds sing outside and Jim watched the sun wander across the sky over Spock's shoulder. The tranquillity of the moment lulled him into a light doze and filled his limbs with lead. The ache in his muscles was dulled by his immobility, but he did not fool himself into thinking that he would be walking without feeling anything by morning.

A cold shiver ran down his back.

"Jim?"

T'Pring would be here by morning. This moment, this togetherness would most likely never occur again. He would need to stay away from Spock for the duration of his stay upon Vulcan because there was no way the link would allow them apart for longer than an hour now. Maybe less. His shielding had improved immensely, but the link's gravitational pull was becoming stronger a lot faster than his shielding capacity could grow. As far as he had understood Spock's complicated explanation, the link drew two minds together until they were connected at their very cores. The longer this bonding was held off, the more overwhelming it would become when it finally happened. At one point, the urge would take them over and if they were not far apart enough...

Jim shook his head, staring at the billowing curtain in front of the window as he spoke, "Promise me you won't forget me, Spock."

His voice wavered and Jim had to swallow to keep the lump in his throat from pressing tears of frustration out of his eyes. Crying would not help him. They had not helped back in Iowa, had not kept Winona from leaving. Had not kept his stepfather from beating him, nor would it keep T'Pring away from Spock. The entire situation was hopeless.

Spock froze against Jim, lifting his head to stare at him. "What are you speaking of, Jim? Why would I forget you?"

"T'Pring," Jim said quietly, ducking his head to push his face against Spock's throat. "We can't keep this up, Spock. We need to keep this a secret for as long as I am here, maybe as long as we live."

The Vulcan did not speak for a few seconds then reached for the Royal Crest on the nightstand. Jim was tugged into a sitting position, blinking in confusion when the heavy crest came to rest against the lower end of his breastbone. The material it was made of was cold but warmed quickly with the heat of his body.

"The King's consort hands the Royal Crest to her first born daughter or son, who will then hand it to his consort at the end of the bonding ceremony in an endless cycle," Spock cupped Jim's cheek, brushing his thumb over the skin. "I give the Crest to you, because I would rather it was with someone I respect and adore. I would rather see it disappear alongside you than watch T'Pring carry it until the day she bears my child."

Jim touched the Crest, his finger pads resting on it with such delicacy he almost did not feel the structure of the medallion. "I... Spock, I can't keep this. It's... you need to give it to T'Pring at the ceremony. She'll notice that you're not wearing it around the palace too."

He moved to take the necklace off again, but Spock grasped his wrists, forcing them down again. "You will keep it. Please, Jim. Do me this favour."

"But...," Jim sighed, nodding in compliance. "Fine, alright. I'll... I'll keep it."

Spock nodded in approval, kissing the skin above Jim's heart. "Thank you."

"You're such a closet romantic, Spock," Jim muttered, heart squeezing within his chest.

Spock pushed their foreheads together, a soft sigh filling the air between them. "I am not. You merely... make me wish I was born ignorant to all these political intrigues and royal duties. I would instantly give the throne over to someone else if I were not sure the Kingdom would take a turn for the worse in regards to Earth. I do not wish to see your kind suffer any longer."

Jim nodded, eyes sliding shut as he wrapped his arms around Spock's neck. The crest dangled between them, a silent promise that hung heavy in the light afternoon air.


	21. Chapter 20: Empire

Hey guys, sorry for not updating in so long. There's been a lot of things happening at home and I did not have the time to write. I hope you aren't too angry with me and I didn't lose too many of my readers.

The chapter might be awkward to read, I'm not feeling well and I while I did check for errors, I lost my glasses and after two hours of reading on a screen, my sight gets a little wonky. So, I apologise in advance for any errors, grammatical or otherwise.

I hope you enjoy the chapter.

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 20: Empire

The next morning came much too quick. Spock had kept his eyes shut as long as possible, ignoring the birds' early calling and the sun rising up to start her journey across the firmament. His entire conscious being was fixed on the warm body pressed against his own, Jim's mind brushed against Spock's, sleepy, warm thoughts scattering across the wide open link between them. For a brief moment, Spock panicked; the entanglement between their minds seemed too strong, too closely knit. It took 2.5 minutes before he was able to distinguish himself from Jim once more.

It seemed like hours until Jim finally woke, stretching his lean body along Spock's, head tilting backwards and a content keen escaping his throat. The blonde's muscles trembled for a moment and went slack as he curled back into Spock, "Mornin'."

"Morning, Jim," Spock whispered.

The human lifted his chin, peering at him through bleary eyes, a lazy smile quirking his lips upwards, "You been awake long?"

Spock shook his head, "No. Did you sleep well?"

"Mhmm," Jim nodded, shifting closer and placing one hand atop of Spock's chest, "What about you?"

Spock inclined his chin, "I, too, slept well."

The blonde hummed then sat up, eyes darkening with an emotion that Spock could not quite place, "Today... T'Pring is coming today, isn't she?"

Feeling his shoulders tense, Spock averted his eyes, "Yes."

Warm hands cupped his cheeks, turning his head gently, "Spock..."

Reaching up, Spock curled his fingers around Jim's wrists, allowing his mouth to tilt into a lopsided smile, "We should wash and dress ourselves."

They spent almost two hours in the bathroom, drawing out the inevitable until the water ran cold. Spock provided Jim with fresh clothes and sat on the rumpled bed, watching the young man dress himself. The pants were too long and made Jim's toes vanish beneath the hem, the shirt came down to cover half of his thighs while swallowing the human's slender hands.

A soft sigh reverberated through the room and Spock looked up to meet Jim's eyes. There was a sad smile splaying across Jim's lips, "Do you know the exact time T'Pring'll be coming here?"

Spock inclined his head, "She will arrive in exactly forty-seven minutes."

"Oh," Jim nodded, licking his lip, "I should... I should leave, then, so that you have time to make yourself presentable for her."

Spock sighed, "Yes, that... might be best," he reached out, pulling Jim closer to the bed's edge, "but I find myself not wanting you to leave just yet."

The younger male let himself be dragged, the smile on his face turning a little brighter as Spock traced the tip of his finger over the curve of Jim's mouth. The younger male caught his hand in his own and pressed a kiss to Spock's knuckles, eyes lidded, pupils dilated just slightly, not with lust, but with an affection that rattled Spock's bones to their core, "I would love to stay, Spock. But I think it's better if I leave now, because if I don't. I think I will not be able to later."

Nodding, Spock released the young man, resting a palm over the Royal Crest dangling from Jim's neck, "Very well. I... I will see you soon...?"

"Yes," Jim leaned down to kiss him, his lips a soft pressure, "Come see me tonight?"

Spock breathed a soft, "Yes," against Jim's mouth and let the younger male pull away.

Jim sent him a last smile, brittle and vulnerable, before turning around and leaving the room, the door shutting behind him with a click. Spock sat on the bed for a while longer, hands clasped atop his knees and mouth set in a firm line. He did not wish to see T'Pring. With a very un-Vulcan sigh, he buried his face in his palms, pressing his fingertips against his forehead to distract himself from the growing headache.

Breathing out a soft sigh, he laid down on the mattress again, smiling when he felt Jim's mind nudge his own through the bond. It was tentative, as if he was testing out the telepathic range, and when Spock reached out to return the gentle touching, Jim's mind startled away. It took 11.4 seconds before Spock was able to feel the human again, the sensation of embarrassment and laughter tittering over the link.

For a while, Spock basked in the golden glow, until Jim's mind was pulled away, distracted by something, someone else and Spock was left on his own again. Only now he registered the insistent knocking on his door and quietly called out to 'come in'.

Leonard stomped into his room, brows furrowed as he surveyed Spock's position on the bed, "You missed breakfast."

"I am aware."

"Good, because so is Gaila and she's furious."

Spock gave an internal wince. Maybe he should have planned Jim's and his day a tad more efficiently, "I see. Will I need to grovel at her feet or is apologising to her enough to appease her?"

"A joke, that's rare. Jim's rubbing off on ya. To be honest, I'd try grovelling," Leonard drawled, then wrinkled his nose, "It smells like sex in here."

Spock felt the tips of his ears flush. He tended to forget that, although humans possessed an inferior sense of smell compared to Vulcans, they were still capable of picking up individual scents and identifying them. "You are well aware that Vulcans are tied to their sexual needs just as much, if not more, as humans, Leonard."

"Yeah, but that's one hell of a way to remind me."

"Leonard."

"Spock," the Doctor mocked, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "You're about to meet your future wife. And if I can smell that you did the tango in here, she sure as hell will."

"I do not intend on bringing her into my room anytime soon."

The older man rolled his eyes, shaking his head at him, "Fine. Who is it?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow at the doctor, "I was not aware that it interests you whom I share intimacy with, Leonard."

Leonard barked out a gruff laugh, "I don't. It's just that you're risking a lot by sleeping with someone else right now, Spock."

Nodding, Spock clasped his hands together, pressing them against his mouth, "Yes, I know."

The computer chair was scooted in front of the bed and Leonard plopped down with a grunt, "I hope you and whoever didn't have sex on this thing. Now, spill. What's going on?"

"You are aware that I am trying to translate ancient texts and am searching for the true history of Vulcan?" Spock looked up to see Leonard nod, "I have requested Jim's help since I am less adept at handling other languages than he is. You might have noticed Jim's aversion to myself and other Vulcans, which made working together rather complicated and tiresome, but I needed his help. Over the weeks, however, we... came to a mutual agreement."

Leonard stared at him, "Are you telling me, that you're sleeping with my daughter's teacher?"

"Indeed."

"Christ, Spock."

Spock shook his head once, "I would appreciate if you would keep your reprimands to yourself, Leonard. I am well aware of the consequences of my doing, should it come to light."

Leonard snorted, "I'll try, Spock. But this is probably one of the most reckless things you've done until now. Apart from that one time where you decided to test out if you'd be affected by chocolate the same way other Vulcans are."

"Leonard."

"You ate three bars of chocolate, Spock."

In an act of human childishness, Spock chucked a pillow at the Doctor, watching as it hit the man's face with a satisfying thud. The Doctor retaliated by throwing the cushion right back at him, missing Spock's head by inches. "It was merely an experiment and from what I have come to know about human teenagers, they tend to display acts of recklessness very often, if not every day."

"Doesn't mean you have to do it too, Spock. You're putting the kingdom at risk here. Not to mention your mother."

Spock suppressed a soft growl and was surprised at himself for having to do so. Apparently, his emotional control had still not re-established itself as much as he had thought. Upon examining his shields, he found them transparent and laced through with golden threads, as if the link had infested them. Ignoring Leonard's questioning gaze, he slid further into his mind to prod at his walls, wiping his mental hands over them to dispel the transparency, sighing in relief when the golden threads pulled back and twined together once more.

As he dragged himself out of his mindscape once more, he found Leonard staring at him, concern clear on his face, "You alright? Something wrong?"

"No, I am adequate. I merely needed to re-construct my shields properly. They have become transparent while Jim and I-"

"Yes, okay, I get it," Leonard waved his arms through the air, eyes squeezing shut and mouth a thin line, "No details."

"Apologies, Leonard."

The doctor waved it off, "Will T'Pring notice that you and Jim...? Once you're bonded, I mean."

"I wish I was able to confidentially say that I am capable from keeping her out of my innermost thoughts and emotions, but a bond, no matter how unwanted, runs deep. Even if she is not a talented telepath, the bond might provide the necessary depth for her to invade my privacy."

"Isn't that forbidden or somethin'? Even between bondmates."

"It is," Spock nodded, "Without direct permission, meaning, without both partners opening their side of the bond to the other, it is not allowed to intrude into someone's mind."

"But it is possible to... to pry the bond open, right? Forcefully?"

"Yes," Spock inclined his head, "However, it is considered a severe trespass and strictly punished."

"Yeah, well, that helps ya nothing if T'Pring already saw what you and Jim are up to behind her back, don't ya think?"

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes in a very human fashion, Spock stood from the bed, wandering over to the window to peer outside. The garden was in full bloom, pollen drifted through the air, settling on the grass in white patches close to the taller trees. Joanna sped through his field of vision, mouth wide open with laughter, flowers littering her hair as Gaila ran after her, looking less than pleased with Joanna's wild dash. He quickly discovered that Joanna had napped Gaila's sieve and a wooden spoon, using them as shield and sword respectively. Shaking his head in amusement, Spock directed his attention back to Leonard, "T'Pau will bond T'Pring to me at the wedding. Once she enters my mind, she will know everything. Until then, I will have to change something or Jim will likely be thrown into prison for seducing me or, even worse, sent to work in the mines."

"And what do you think you'll be able to do to keep that from happening, Spock? You may be the prince, but in retrospect, you can't do anything. Heck, even your father is just a puppet. The Council is the real power behind the Vulcan Kingdom."

"They might be, but the only reason they have not been overthrown is that the people are scared," Spock moved his hands behind his back, "If I manage to make them believe they are strong enough to fight the Council, to fight my people, the Council will have to step down."

"You forget that the Romulans are one of your allies, Spock."

"I highly doubt that their alliance is one of free will. The missing history of Vulcan suggests that something must have happened to bind them to us. However, I have yet to find out what."

"Well, hurry up then, Spock, your wedding is in three months."

"Thank you for your support, Leonard."

"You're welcome," the doctor glanced down at his wrist watch, "Princess Stuck-up should be here in ten minutes. Come on, put your shoes on and let's go."

Spock agreed silently and pulled on his best shoes, brushing his palms over his shirt to get rid of the tiny wrinkles that had accumulated while he was lying down. After 38.4 seconds later, Leonard had had enough it seemed and grasped Spock's elbow, dragging him out of the room and down the hallway. As soon as they reached the staircase, the doctor released him with a huff, "Alright. I would come with you, but I'm guessing that it'll only raise unwanted questions. Try not to look too disgusted with her and please, _please_, don't say or do anything stupid. You're my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to you. Or Jim for that matter. Got it?"

"I understand, Leonard. Thank you."

The doctor scoffed and waved him off, "Whatever," before turning and walking back the way they came from, most likely to lie down in his room, since he had taken the nightshift after one of the servants contracted the flu.

Spock took a deep, cleansing breath and began to descend the stairs, head held high, back straight and shoulders drawn back. Mother and Father were already waiting for him and Spock was glad that T'Pring had yet to arrive, when Mother wrapped her arms around him in a quick, squeezing hug. Father averted his gaze, not uttering a word to stop his wife, for which Spock was grateful.

The moment Mother pulled away, she began to wipe at her eyes, composing herself as much as she could. Father touched the back of her hand and withdrew as soon as she had managed to school her face back into an unreadable mask.

The front door was pulled open by one of the guards, "Your Highness... Lord Soren and his daughter have arrived."

"Let them in."

The guard inclined his head and stepped aside.

Lord Soren entered the front hall, his daughter walking in behind him. Spock observed the young woman as she came to a halt beside her father, clad in long, silvery robes, hair curled atop her head, eyes rimmed with kohl. T'Pring let her gaze wander around the hall, before she finally met Spock's gaze.

Soren lifted his hand in the traditional greeting, "Your Highness."

Father returned the gesture, "Lord Soren. I trust your travel has been adequate?"

"Indeed," Soren lowered his hand and nodded at his daughter, "I wish to discuss the wedding, Your Highness. Preferably in private. In the meantime, my daughter and your son may go and familiarize themselves with each other."

"Very well," Father inclined his head and lifted a hand to gesture towards the staircase, "We may retreat to my personal study. If you would follow me, Lord Soren."

Spock did not watch them leave, instead keeping his eyes trained on T'Pring's motionless face, "Would you like to accompany me to the gardens?"

T'Pring blinked and nodded once, "Yes."

Spock inclined his head, looking at Mother for a brief moment, before leading T'Pring towards the door towards the garden. They had not even stepped outside yet, when Joanna's bright laughter met Spock's ears, echoing throughout the garden. T'Pring seemed interested for a moment, "Who is that?"

"Joanna McCoy. She is our doctor's daughter," Spock answered.

"She is human."

"Indeed. Is this is a problem for you?"

T'Pring gave a curt shake of the head, "No."

Spock nodded and steered towards the basket chairs, waiting until T'Pring had seated herself, before sitting down. Silence permeated the air around them and Spock was glad that she did not appear in anyway interested to start a conversation with him. Minutes ticked by, in which Spock opted to watch Joanna play. The small girl appeared to have convinced Gaila into a pretend-game of the traditional Terran tale of a Knight saving a Princess from a terrible beast. The beast in this case being a sleeping I-Chaya, while Gaila, rather dramatically, represented the stolen Princess and Joanna, ever the brave one, swung her 'sword' as the courageous knight.

It was amusing to see Gaila wring her hands, huddling against a tree, while Joanna hopped around the snoring sehlat, shouting and waving the wooden spoon around. I-Chaya opened an eye, mouth gaping open in a wide yawn, before the giant animal buried his face in his paws once more. Joanna struck a triumphant pose, before scrambling towards Gaila, who instantly threw her arms around the little girl, proclaiming her a hero and pressing kisses to Joanna's cheeks.

"A rather pointless game, is it not?"

Spock turned his head to look at T'Pring, "Terrans are of the opinion that children are supposed to play. It helps their social development and interaction."

"By pretending to fight imaginary creatures?" T'Pring's eyebrows lifted slightly, "That does not seem very logical."

"You are forgetting that they are Human, not Vulcan. Their brain works differently than ours. While we do not require constant interaction and tactile behaviour, their kind thrives with it. A Terran child that is not adequately cared for will develop poorly or might even die."

"They appear to be a very helpless species," T'Pring said, directing the gaze of her black eyes towards him.

"Your assumption is based on nothing but the fact that they need touch, which is, in itself, illogical. Our kind cannot survive in temperatures below fifteen Celsius degrees and our fingers are rendered useless in cold water. Would you say we are 'helpless'?"

A tiny crease appeared between T'Pring's brows, the first sign of emotion Spock saw upon her face, "Of course not."

"Exactly."

"You seem rather fascinated with these Humans, Prince Spock."

"They are very interesting people," Spock gestured towards Joanna, "Would you have enjoyed such games as a child?"

"No. They are not logical."

"Why do you think Joanna enjoys them?"

T'Pring tilted her head, "I do not know," she met Spock's eyes once more, "Why does she enjoy them?"

"Because she does not care if something is logical or not. She uses her mind to create her own world and manages to immerse herself enough to actually believe that she is fighting a beast to save a Princess. In a way, it is similar to meditating, only that Humans experience it with not only their mind, but their body too. In later years, these games become lost to most and are traded for other things. Dancing. Writing. Painting. Other ways to find their inner peace."

T'Pring, now genuinely intrigued, inclined her head and turned to watch Joanna stick flowers into Gaila's hair, "Fascinating."

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><p>Aaand, that was it. I hope I can update a lot more regularly now, but please be patient if it takes a while. I'm trying. Thank you for all the great comments, you are the best.<p> 


	22. Chapter 21: Water's Edge

Heya.

First, I hate this chapter. I hate it with a passion and it sucks. I will re-do this thing if I have the nerve one day. I hate it. So. Much. The trouble I had writing it exceeds everything I have ever dealt with while writing.

So, because Kasey is a perfect human being and I love her for being so supportive, this chapter is dedicaded to you, Kasey. Even if it sucks and it doesn't do you justice.

She is the reason why this thing was written in ONE day. Don't ask me how that works.

Please, please, please, tell me any error you find. I found a lot while reading through it but I can just feel there are many more.

Enjoy anyway. With love, alienated-alien.

(This new page is so damn confusing.)

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds <strong>

Chapter 21: Water's Edge

The next two months passed in a blurred game of hide and seek. Spock and Jim spent their free time researching in the library when they were able to get together. If not, Jim investigated around the palace as much as he could and sometimes, he would sneak into Spock's room in the middle of the night. The nights he was unable to be with Spock, Jim whiled away prodding the Vulcan through the link between them.

The garden was quiet and, today, it was not what Jim needed. He shifted the tiny gadget in his hand, setting it down in the grass before activating the speakers. A moment later AC/DC's '_You Shook Me All Night Long_' came blaring into the relative silence and Jo, who was clinging to Jim's pant leg, released a confused hum, "Mr. Jam, what're you doing?"

Jim grinned, taking both of Joanna's hands and twirled her around, "Dancing!"

The little girl began to laugh, eyes squeezing shut as her hair was messed by the slight, artificial breeze sweeping through the garden. At the chorus, Jim lifted Joanna into his arms and spun in wide circles, laughing as he became dizzy and finally dropped into the grass, Joanna sprawled across his chest.

Their snickering trailed off as AC/DC was replaced by Peter Gabriel's '_Blood of Eden_'. Jim rested his palm atop Joanna's head, stroking the thick curls bundled there while he stared at the sky above him. At one point, Joanna got up and began to pluck flowers out from underneath the broad trees surrounding them, bundling them into tiny bouquets and planting the small ones into the thick mop of her hair.

Hours later, after Jim had returned a very sleepy Joanna to her equally exhausted father, he made his way to the library to meet up with Spock.

The Vulcan was seated at the very back of the large room, surrounded by various books and holding a large folder on his knees. Plonking himself down beside the Prince, Jim laughed when his sudden appearance startled the Vulcan hybrid enough to make him flinch, "Hey."

"Hello, Jim," Spock's eyes softened and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Jim's for a brief moment, the link sparking in the back of Jim's head.

"Have you found anything new...?" Jim whispered into the space between them.

Spock nodded and lifted a small piece of paper from the ground beside his knee, holding it out for Jim to take. Unfolding the worn paper, Jim was confronted with the familiar handwriting of Tiberius Kirk.

_Upstairs. Left. Fourth Door on the right. Favinit underneath the window. _

_TSK_

"I have yet to understand what he is trying to tell us."

Jim hummed, "_Favinit_ is a flower, right?"

"Indeed. It is similar to Earth's orchids," Spock lifted an eyebrow, "Do you think this is important?"

"I... I'm not sure," Jim re-read the words again, "Upstairs... fourth door on the right. The flower... that... Spock, it's my room. There's a small flower drawn onto the wall underneath my window."

Spock's eyes widened slightly, "Are you certain?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, taking a look doesn't hurt, right?"

They stood, leaving the books and hurrying through the palace and up the large staircase, towards Jim's room. The small _favinit _was barely visible underneath the window, white and pale red; Jim could make it out in the relative dimness of his room just so. He stepped closer, kneeling down to stare at the blossom. Spock's long-fingered hand touched the wall, knuckles hitting the paint, a hollow sound answering the Vulcan's attempt.

"There's something behind it," Jim exclaimed, grinning as he began to scratch at the thick paint. It flaked off easily enough, exposing a thin, wooden tile. Jim frowned, digging his nail into the top, tugging until the panel broke out of the black stone of the wall surrounding it.

A small chamber was exposed, occupied by a flat container.

Carefully, Jim pulled the metal box out of its hiding place. It was flat, yes, but rather broad and just about high enough to contain a large folder.

A cipher-dependant lock kept it firmly shut.

"Damn," Jim cursed, glaring at the mechanism, "So close."

Spock sat down beside him, taking the box and letting his gaze rest on the lock. Frustrated and unsure how to proceed, Jim stood and locked his door, leaning against it with a loud huff, "What do we do now, Spock? Break it? That would take ages."

Instead of answering, Spock gave a soft hum and Jim closed his eyes, opening them upon hearing a soft click, "Did you...?"

Spock opened the box, "The 3rd December, 2052. The numbers were the code."

Jim groaned, "Of course! I'm an idiot!"

Making his way back, he helped Spock pull the thick folder out of the box and laying it onto the ground. It was filled to the brim with papers, torn pages and handwritten notes. Jim rifled through them, eyes wide and mouth stuck between smiling and opening into a surprised 'o'.

"_War was lost... Agreement has been made... the Romulans agreed to leave us in charge of the public appearance and superficial government. Free to roam... military force... belligerent folk... constant wars among their own people..._," Jim kept on mumbling along the lines, "I can't believe it! It's like back in the days when the UK had a representative monarchy! Only in a not-good way... Vulcan did lose against Romulus. _In exchange for our superior technology and promising protection and prevention methods against their dangerous surroundings and violent behaviour among themselves, the Romulans agreed to serve the Vulcan kingdom in their quest. _Why did they agree to that? Why didn't they just take over the galaxy entirely?"

"The Romulans are a very... blood thirsty folk, Jim. Their home planet is riddled with the signs of endless wars and the people were torn apart by their discontent. They are headstrong and do not listen to orders well. Especially when it is given by someone of their own kind; they live by a strict 'every Romulan is equal' policy. It seems that they only saw one way out of this dilemma; the highest generals forged a contract with the Vulcan king and agreed to serve as Vulcan's main military force in exchange for making their people believe they have found a worthy leader," Spock answered, eyes locked onto the wad of papers he had pulled into his lap.

"Still doesn't make sense to me," Jim mumbled, "If they are so blood thirsty, the thought of bowing to someone not of their kind must have revolted them."

"Not if the one they are bowing to seemed to be the stronger force, Jim. They are, much like the Klingons, drawn to those mightier than them. The Romulans are easily impressed by shows of great tactical knowledge and gruesome tales. Not to mention that they change their ways if it suits their needs," Spock lowered the documents and sighed, "Additionally due to their constant wars, their overall technological progress is limited to military devices. Meaning, their medical equipment is just barely better than what was used during Earth's World War II."

"That's... terrible," Jim mumbled, "And... the enslaving...?"

Spock flipped through the pages, "Here."

Jim tugged the paper that Spock offered him out of the Vulcan's hand, "Planet Remus?"

Spock nodded, lips a thin line. Jim read on, covering his mouth with one hand, "The Remans have been slaves to the Romulans longer than I have thought possible. The documents state that they have become nothing but cruel in the decades they were forced to work in the dilithium mines. Their thirst for blood exceeds even that of the Romulans."

"It says here that 'they are nothing but wild animals that were given a weapon to kill with'," Jim licked his lip, swallowing thickly, "Did... did no one notice?"

Looking up, Jim found Spock facing the wall the Vulcan's eyebrows lowered minutely, "The Romulans are not fools, Jim. They are brutal, yes, but not foolish. Remus is tidally locked to its star. One half faces its light, the other is kept in constant darkness. The planet was long believed to be inhabitable, until it was found to be bursting with dilithium crystals only a few years ago. Only then it has come to light that there was life upon Remus. It seems that the Romulans have known about this far longer than the rest of the galaxy has and used it to aid their own goals."

Jim shook his head, "So... the enslaving is not...?"

"No," Spock looked back at Jim, "I believe the enslaving was part of appeasing the Romulans and keeping them from breaking the agreement."

"If the Vulcans keep on 'trying to appease' the Romulans this whole thing will come to light and we'll have another war on our hands," Jim exclaimed, "And I doubt you will be supported by the other planets you have claimed as part of the Vulcan kingdom in the name of the Romulans, Spock."

"Not if we don't contact their leaders and appeal to them."

"You are insane, Spock," Jim covered his eyes with his hands, "Completely insane."

Spock's cool fingers curled around Jim's wrists, pulling them away and meeting his eyes. Jim's gaze ghosted over the Vulcan's pale face, the brown eyes wide, mouth quirked in an almost-smile, a miniscule furrow to his brows, "Maybe I am. But I have to try. I have to."

The crest resting against Jim's chest underneath his shirt felt heavier than ever, "Spock..."

The Prince cupped his cheeks between his broad hands, leaning in and pressing a dry, gentle kiss to his lips, waves of content warmth skittering across the connection between them, dulled by the walls Jim had erected the other day and forgotten to reinforce this morning, "Please, Jim."

"How do you intend on contacting the Klingons, the Orions and every other planet in the quadrant? It's impossible without being detected."

"I have made it possible for you to speak to your brother on a secure comm. line, Jim."

"That's different. Both parties agreed to keep it secret. The Orions might agree, but the Klingons are...," Jim sighed, "I'm scared, Spock. What if it doesn't work out? What if someone notices? Who knows what they'll do to you and your family, Spock."

The Vulcan hybrid did not speak, caressing Jim's face with careful fingertips, lips ghosting across his forehead. It bordered on being overwhelming, the touch too soft, the meaning behind it too heavy. His eyes slid closed, his hands moved to clutch at the front of Spock's tunic. As he opened his mouth to continue to speak, Spock's comm. cell gave a shrill beep, alerting him to an incoming call.

They moved apart and Jim watched as Spock answered the cell, "Spock here."

"_I'd hurry up, if I were ya_" Leonard's voice is incredibly loud in the silence of the room, "_Gaila made dinner and if yer not here in five minutes, she'll throw a fit. Take Jimbo with ya, alright?_"

Jim chuckles while Spock gave an affirmative hum and slid the comm. cell shut, "Let us go, Jim. I do not wish to aggravate Gaila further."

"Believe me, no one does," Jim stood, tugging Spock to his feet with a grunt, "You should eat less, you're heavy as hell."

"You are aware that a Vulcan's bone structure is far denser than that of a human due to-"

Jim rocked up onto the tips of his toes and kissed Spock's nose, effectively shutting the Vulcan up, "Let's get some dinner, alright?"

Spock nodded, dazedly, "Yes, Jim."

Dinner was a silent affair. Jim was seated at the far end alongside Leonard and Joanna, casting small, hopefully unsuspicious glances towards Spock, while Gaila served the food, muttering about ungrateful Vulcan Princesses and stuck-up elves. Jim understood why Leonard was so smitten with her.

T'Pring had yet to grace them with her presence, but none of those dining at the main table seemed particularly unhappy about it. Even King Sarek seemed relieved about her absence and the atmosphere was almost pleasant in a way that it had not been since Lady T'Pring's arrival. Jim even dared to brush his hand over the back of Spock's chair as he walked past to help Gaila carry the large bowl of salad inside.

Twenty minutes into the meal, T'Pring entered the room, head held high, face pale and eyes rimmed with the usual, thick rim of kohl. Her gown was a deep shade of red and Jim shifted uncomfortably when her cold gaze rested upon him a tad too long. Sometimes, he wondered if she knew and dressed and acted like devil-incarnate on purpose to drive him insane. A shiver of fear rocked through him while T'Pring made her way to Spock's side of the table, seating herself on the empty chair beside him.

Dinner continued, a little forced and Jim kept his eyes on his plate, resolute in his attempt not to get Spock into trouble with his future wife.

His heart clenched painfully within his chest and his hand moved itself to cover the royal crest hidden beneath his shirt. Leonard nudged him in the side and Jim frowned when the doctor leaned in to whisper into his ear, "She's refilling his glass. Can you believe that? As if Spock grew up in a household where the woman was supposed to serve the man, what is she thinking? Won't get her on Spock's good side or the King's, from the looks of it."

Looking up, he found T'Pring setting the carafe filled with wine down, Spock nodding as a polite 'thank you', while King Sarek had lifted an eyebrow and seemed, yes, almost put out by her display. Lady Amanda was dapping at her lips with her serviette, hiding a tiny grin. T'Pring was not particularly subtle, it seemed.

Spock took a sip, shooting a quick glance into Jim's direction and Jim could practically feel the Vulcan's exasperation with Lady T'Pring. Jim had to cover his mouth to keep himself from giggling. A moment later, he heard Gaila calling for him in the kitchen and stood, making his way around the table. Just as he was about to pass T'Pring's chair, she scooted backwards, right into his side. Her knee knocked against the underside of the large table, causing her glass to spill over and the juice to seep through the cloth. Jim has stumbled, falling backwards into the armrest of Spock's chair, his elbow landing in the half-eaten vegetable stew.

"I'm sorry!" Jim exclaimed, fumbling to straighten himself, "I... I will clean this up, excuse me."

Ducking his head, Jim hurried into the kitchen, flushed and embarrassed.

After cleaning up the mess he had unintentionally caused, Jim spent the rest of the dinner in the kitchen and dashed upstairs, as soon as it was over.

Stepping into his room and closing the door was a relief, until his gaze fell onto the documents and papers they had shoved haphazardly into a corner. Something seemed off, but Jim was not sure if it was his growing paranoia that made him think someone had snooped through his belongings or bitter reality.

He had locked the door, had he not?

With a soft sigh, Jim settled down on the floor and began to put the papers back into the box, thoughts drifting. A mere second after he had placed the last document into the container, a searing pain tore through his head and stomach, leaving him breathless, doubled over the metal box as he gasped for air.

Recovering took a long time and Jim struggled to his feet when he was certain he would not end up face first on the ground while trying. Pained tears clouded his vision on his way through the door and down the hall, his legs supporting his shaken body just so. Spock.

He needed to get to Spock.

Another wave of pain lanced through him when he reached Spock's room, rendering him incapable of opening the door for a brief moment, before he disabled the lock and stumbled inside.

Spock was on the floor, back arched, eyes half-lidded as he twitched, gray foam covering his mouth. Jim's mouth opened in a helpless cry and he dropped to the ground, one hand reaching out to cradle Spock's head, keeping him from hurting himself further, the other slapping against the ground as he began to shout for help.

It did not take long before the room was swarming with guards and Leonard was boxing his way through, "Get back you pointy-eared morons!"

Jim was pushed aside, drawing away to give Leonard room. He could not see what the doctor was doing, but whatever it was, it stopped Spock's frantic jerking and the gurgling coughs.

"He was poisoned," Leonard announced, gesturing for two of the guards to help him, "We gotta get him to the sickbay. No detours, no stupid questions. Go!"

The ache in Jim's head eased ever so slowly and he could breathe a little easier. Poison? Who would have been able to slip poison past the security guards? Who would be insane enough to try and murder the crown prince in his own home? Jim shook his head. It seemed absurd. Murdering the King would have made more sense; the impact would have been larger. The majority of the population knew Spock thought differently about how a kingdom was to be led, hoping for a more lenient king and those who did not were confident enough that they would be able to influence Spock's decisions simply because Spock was young and inexperienced when it came to politics. Not to mention that Spock might be the crown prince, but he was not the last one in the line of succession.

"Why are you here?"

The smooth voice shook Jim out of his thoughts and his flicked up to meet that of T'Pring, "I... I was the one who found Prince Spock, Lady T'Pring."

"Yes, I am aware. My questions is why was a mere human was able to override the Prince's lock so easily?"

"I... I am rather talented with all things technological, Your Highness," Jim swallowed.

He had a feeling this would not end well for him.

"And how did you know to come here and override it in the first place? Prince Spock did not make a sound loud enough to escape the parameters of this room through the closed door."

"I just knew," Jim answered and knew he had lost when a spark of victory shot through those black eyes.

"I see," T'Pring turned to address one of the guards, "Take him to the cells. The likelihood of him being the culprit is above ninety percent and until he has been proven innocent, I do not wish him to be anywhere near my future bondmate."

Opening his mouth to defend himself against T'Pring's accusations, Jim attempted to dodge the guard's hands as they gripped his arms and hoisted him up, dragging him out of the room and down the hallway, "_No_! You're making a mistake! This is insane, let go of me!"

No one paid him any attention. His feet sliding over the thick rug as he tried to push his heels against the floor to slow the guards down. But the only thing he managed to achieve was that the human guard got fed up with him and slung Jim over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Unwilling to accept his defeat, Jim began to drum his fists against the man's back, knees knocking into a muscle-packed torso, "Let go! Let go! Let _go_!"

"Be silent," the Vulcan guard walking in front of them snapped, the monotone voice only adding to the severity of the command.

Jim gave a wordless scream, the sound cutting off as he was turned over again and tossed into one of the holding cells. His back collided with the hard, stone-tiled floor and his head snapped backwards, hitting the bed frame on the left side of the cell. The metal door was shut, the automatic lock clicking into place. Jim scrambled to his feet, throwing himself against the door, "It wasn't me!"

His knees gave out and he slid down, resting his forehead against the cool metal, "It wasn't me."

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><p>Aaaand, that was it. Cliffhanger, again, but everyone who came along for the ride of my other story already knows that. Anyway, once again, I hate this chapter. I need to re-do the explanation, the end, the middle, the start. It's terrible. Alright, I'll stop now.<p> 


	23. Chapter 22: More Than This

And here we are! With a totally useless chapter that clears up nothing! Yaiy me!

Anyway, I hope you can at least enjoy reading it, still not quite back, but I'm feeling a lot better, so, my muse has decided to come out of hiding.

Thanks to everyone who is still reading this story, I'm so sorry I've been keeping you waiting for so long. And thank you all for your wonderful comments. They make my day.

This thing is, as always, not beta-ed. I read through it twice and thrice, but it's hard to find your own errors. Please tell me if you find any major ones so I can clear them up!

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 22: More Than This

Spock's body was thickly packed in wool. Cotton had been stuffed into his ears, his mouth. The sun above him had dried out his eyes and burned away his skin, leaving him exposed as the birds picked at the open wound within his abdomen. Fingers twitched and toes curled, scraping against the rough fabric underneath him. His head was pounding to the rhythm of his heartbeat, loud and unrelenting.

A soft touch whispered across his cheekbone and chased the heat away for a brief moment.

Dragging his subconscious out of the black sludge it was trapped in, Spock was able to separate the sensory input from outside and the mental torture he was experiencing. As far as he could determine his external body was undamaged, but the ache above his navel was still a persistent pulse. His eyelids fluttered, parting as he willed them open. It took minutes before his eyes focused and the world around him became clear.

Through his half-open mouth slid a low, pained groan and a moment later, Mother's familiar face hovered above him, "Spock?"

The mask she wore in public had slipped from her face, leaving her emotions exposed. Spock breathed a quiet sigh, "Mother. What happened?"

His voice broke, gritty and painful to his raw throat. The dry sensation prompted a coughing fit and Spock twisted onto his side to prevent a choking hazard. It took minutes for the hacking coughs to subside, his Mother's hand warm as she stroked his shaking shoulders, "You were poisoned, Spock. This is the first time you have been awake in three days."

A line formed between Spock's brows as he allowed them to furrow ever so slightly, "Have you found the culprit?"

Silence permeated the room for a long moment. Ice cold terror swept through him when Mother ducked her head and whispered, "Jim has been locked into one of the holding cells."

Ignoring the dull pain wracking his joints, Spock sat up, reaching out to grasp Mother's shoulder, "Jim?"

Mother nodded, lips white, "After the T'Pring and the guards were alerted to your condition by Jim's screaming, T'Pring asked him how he knew you were in trouble. His answers were vague and she concluded that he must have known this would happen. Thus he was brought into the holding cell while the plate and glass you used were examined. A small residue of the poison was found on the rim of your glass and T'Pring reminded us of the small tumult at the dinner table, when Jim fell onto you. She... she said he would have had the time to apply the poison."

Spock shook his head, "No... Mother, Jim would never do this to me."

"Spock-"

"Mother, please," Spock reached out to touch his mother's wrist, "I promise you, it was not Jim. I do not know who might have done it, but I can say with certainty that it was not Jim."

Mother took a deep breath and cupped Spock's cheek with her warm palm, "I believe you. But there is nothing I can do. T'Pring insists on keeping Jim in the holding cell; she is concerned regarding what he might do. Spock, I am so sorry, I should have protested against it. There is not enough evidence to even prove Jim guilty in any way."

Shifting, Spock attempted to get up, "I need to speak with T'Pring."

Mother pushed him back onto the mattress, "You will do no such thing, Spock. You are barely able to keep your eyes focused. I will try to speak with your Father and T'Pring. But I doubt T'Pring will listen and your Father cannot release Jim now. The Press has already gotten wind of what has happened. His hands are bound."

Spock suppressed a snarl, settling into the cushions for the moment, "How did the Press find out about this?"

"I am not sure," Mother sighed, brows drawn, "But whoever it was that poisoned you must have been able to reach your glass."

"Many people have passed my seat at the dining table, Mother. It could have been anyone."

"I know," Mother pinched the bridge of her nose and reached out to tuck the blanket around Spock's prone body, eyes downcast, "Just promise me you will rest and I will try to see what I can find out. Leonard wished to be informed if you woke up during my stay, be prepared to be assaulted by hypo-sprays," she smiled, a mischievous sparkle in her dark brown eyes as she stood.

Suppressing a grimace, Spock nodded, "Very well."

Mother chuckled and finally left.

3.47 minutes later, Leonard stormed into the room, hair tousled and eyes wild, "Spock!"

"Yes, Leonard?"

"I swear, if you ever pull a stunt like this again-"

"Leonard, I did not deliberately imbibe poison, therefore, I could not have possibly foreseen what happened."

The doctor deflated and sat down on the edge of Spock's bed, "I know. Just... Spock, ya could've kicked the bucket there and the thing with Jimmy..."

"It was not Jim."

"I know that!" Leonard snapped, calming a minute after, "I know. The poison was a mild version of _harvikh-mal'la_. Jim wouldn't have had a clue how to create that thing. Not to mention that it's impossible to acquire in the Vulcan kingdom, since the ingredients are so expensive. To be honest, I think it was T'Pring. But there's no proof and it's obvious whom they believe more. It's not like Jim has a lot of people that support him."

"Why would T'Pring poison me, Leonard? If I had died, she would have never become Queen," Spock released a heavy breath, the gesture almost considered a sigh, "I do not know what to think of this. It seems rather senseless and almost nonsensical."

The doctor shrugged, "Maybe T'Pring noticed what's going on between you and Jim."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, "Stop being illogical, Leonard. We took great care not to spent time together when she was present and only met when we were sure T'Pring would be asleep or meditating in her room. T'Pring and I have never melded either. There is only a minimal possibility for her to have found out."

Sighing, Leonard rolled his eyes, "As much as you space elves lack emotional instincts, she's still a woman. They're good at reading body language. She could have noticed. Maybe it was a lucky guess."

"It is still too severe a reaction, Leonard. She would have rather sought to speak with me than murder me. Not to mention that it would have been far more logical for her to get rid of Jim."

The doctor's brows shot up towards his hairline, "You're a morbid little hobgoblin, Spock."

"I shall take this as a compliment, Leonard," Spock closed his eyes, all of the sudden tired and exhausted, "I apologise, but I believe more sleep would do me good."

"Definitely," Leonard answered and Spock felt the mattress shift as the man stood, "See ya later."

Spock hummed and was dragged under a mere second later.

_The water was covered in fog, snaking through the flat, grey stone surface. The sky was dark and peppered in glowing stars, illuminated by cerulean nebulae. In the distance was the sea, cold and shimmering, a white light, not colourful enough to be the sun, peeking over the horizon. _

_His hands were warm, pulsating with warm red, like a heartbeat in the rattling silence. _

_The ground below was hard and icy against his bare feet, frost covering his toes and snaking up to circle his ankles. The familiar sound of bells ringing filled the air, echoing across the water. His legs carried him towards the edge of the low cliff, the fog washing over the brink and swirling around his feet. A shudder ran down his spine, quick and violent. Spent air escaped his lips as a heavy cloud of mist. _

_Spock stretched out his arms, palms facing outwards, leaning forward until his skin came in contact with the sensation of smooth glass. _

_The blockage was brittle and Spock found his fire hands liquefying the material, the glass melting into the fogged water below and giving way to the light of the suddenly brighter stars beyond._

"_Spock!"_

_The sound of Jim's voice startled him for a brief moment, before he whirled around and found Jim stumbling towards him, body wrapped in crimson cloth, the fabric trailing after him in endless trains. Spock wanted to call out, to stop Jim from throwing himself into his arms and being burned by the destructive heat of his hands. However, his mouth was frozen shut and his hands covered in fern frost, the fire long gone. Jim's warm body collided with his own, slender arms wrapping around his neck and soft lips pressed against his throat. _

"_It wasn't me," he whispered._

_Tearing his iced mouth apart, Spock answered, "I know, Jim. I know. And I am sorry you are being accused of hurting me."_

"_I'm glad you are alright. No one wanted to give me information about your health. Had it not been for the link, I would have thought you were dead by now."_

_Stepping away, Spock cupped Jim's face, watching the frost swirl over Jim's cheekbones and curl around the bright blue of his eyes. "Forgive me, Jim. I did not wish for this to happen to you. You do not deserve to be imprisoned. T'Pring's accusations are built upon nothing but presumptions."_

_Jim leaned into his touch, lids sliding down over his eyes, lips parting, smooth and bright red. The frost had painted his copper lashes silver, tinted his brows white. Jim's rough fingertips touched Spock's collarbones, tracing the line to the groove between the clavicles, slipping down to place his hand against the centre of Spock's chest. Pulling it away, a thin yarn of glowing light followed his palm, stretching until Jim led it to his own chest, renewing the link that had been barricaded until now. _

_Warmth flooded Spock's body and melted the ice, spreading across the mindscape and tinting the world with bright orange and subdued pink. _

Hours later, Spock opened his eyes to darkness. For a brief moment, he wanted to panic, to flee, before his mind became accustomed to its surroundings and allowed his eyes to focus. It had gotten late, the only source of light within the room being a small light by the window, illuminating a small space around it, while keeping the remainder of the room in soft, broken obscurity.

Spock rolled onto his side, sitting up with care. Determining that he felt well enough to stand, he slid off the bed and stumbled towards the table in the corner to gather up a glass and fill it with water from the carafe that had been left there. Upon lifting the glass to take a sip, he found, with unsuppressed disdain, that his hand was shaking. He needed to find a way to free Jim.

However, he would need to convince T'Pring to retract her accusations.

After he had drained the water glass, he set the empty container down and shuffled towards the door, sighing when it slid open to reveal a rather irate Leonard, "I should have known you would activate the sensor alarms, Leonard. You do express an unhealthy amount of paranoid behaviour."

"Well, looks like it's the appropriate thing to do in yer case, Spock."

Spock lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, "I am well enough to walk."

"Yeah, for now," Leonard grumbled, "Now get back to bed, pyjama elf."

"Certainly not, Leonard. I need to speak with T'Pring."

Leonard groaned, "Fine! At least let me get you something to wear other than that," he gestured at Spock's attire, "We'll go downstairs after you look like a normal human being again. I think the only one who's even allowed to enter the living room in their pyjamas is Jo-Jo."

Spock glanced down at himself and hummed; soft cotton pants and his meditation gown.

Leonard returned 8.06 minutes later and pushed the folded clothes into Spock's arms, "Here, I'll step outside, you get dressed."

Spock inclined his head, waited until the door shut behind Leonard and began to dress. It took him longer than usual, his equilibrium not its usual standard and a slight nausea had established itself. Finally, he was wearing a pair of slacks and a wide shirt, the clothes he had slept in placed on a chair by the wall. Stepping out of the room, he made his way down the hallway, towards the great staircase.

He made his way down, slow and careful, Leonard just a mere step behind him. The quiet murmur of people conversing in the large living room drifted through the large entrance hall and led Spock through the door at his right. T'Pring was seated on the broad sofa, speaking to one of the guards. Her posture was relaxed and her gesturing a little less chastened than what was customary among Vulcans. The moment the guard noticed Spock and Leonard, he straightened his spine a tad further and inclined his head in a polite greeting.

T'Pring turned her head and if she was surprised by their presence, not even a raised eyebrow betrayed it.

The guard bowed and left the room, vanishing through the door Spock and Leonard had stepped through a moment ago. Spock made his way to the couch and seated himself in one of the fauteuils. "T'Pring."

"Spock," she set her tea cup down, "I did not expect you out of bed so soon."

"I wish to speak to you about your accusations regarding James Kirk."

T'Pring blinked, slow and deliberate, "Why?"

"They are not based upon facts but speculations. Mr. Kirk does not have a motive and is not the only one who would have been able to apply the poison. Furthermore, he is neither well-versed in toxicology nor medicine. He does not possess the knowledge or means to recreate this particular brand of poison," he glanced at Leonard.

"He was still the one to find you, Spock. And how he knew you were in danger, he has yet to say. If he was not the one who poisoned you, he was at least an accomplice," T'Pring answered, voice firm and unrelenting, "I will not allow a criminal to walk freely among us. It is either the holding cell or the mines."

"It is not your place to decide this, T'Pring."

"You are my future bondmate and I will not let my judgement be undermined by telling the Press that I might be wrong. It will make the Royal House seem unsure and untrustworthy."

Spock shook his head, "You cannot imprison an innocent man for your own benefits, T'Pring."

"It is for the good of the kingdom. If I were to let him go now, it would make us seem weak. I cannot allow that," she tilted her head at Spock, "Why are you so insistent on releasing Mr. Kirk? He is a mere servant and not of importance to you. Is he not?"

"I believe in justice, T'Pring," Spock explained, "You cannot prove that Mr. Kirk is guilty and therefore you had no right to imprison him in the first place. Nor did it give you the right to inform the Press of what was happening. It was a rash decision that lacked the logic we are taught to live by."

T'Pring's lips had gone white and thin, but nothing else spoke of the emotion raging through her, "Are you telling me that you see me as unworthy, Spock?"

"No," Spock shook his head, "I believe you to be less educated in the matter of politics than you think yourself to be."

"I will not sit here and let myself be insulted," T'Pring declared and stood, "I will not take back my accusations. Mr. Kirk will remain in the holding cell until we have confirmed him to be guilty or found the real culprit."

With that she left.

Spock closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out a long sigh.

Leonard snorted, "That went pretty well, didn't it?"

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated right now, Leonard. I ask you to cease amusing yourself on my behalf. This is a serious matter."

Leonard waved his hand, "Yeah. I know, it's not very nice to tell your daughter that her _Mr. Jam_ is not going to be able to play and learn with her for a while. Did you... did you find out anything else...? I mean, I've not been very involved in your little meetings, but Jim's been pretty happy at the dinner table up until he tripped and fell when walking past your chair."

Spock gestured for Leonard to sit, "We have found the missing documents in a secret compartment hidden in Jim's room..."

Watching Leonard's face change as Spock retold the tale might have been more fascinating that Spock's story itself; to him, at least. The extent of human facial expression seemed to know no bounds. When Spock finished, Leonard was slumped in his seat, shaking his head, "So you are telling me, that the Romulans use the Vulcans as a disguise to quietly take over the entire Quadrant?"

"It seems like it, yes. Additionally, they use us to handle the basic political structure of the kingdom to ensure that it does not fall victim to internal conflicts."

"It still seems a little strange. What did the Vulcans get out of it?"

"We avoided losing more people and destroying what was left of our culture by attacking the Romulans," Spock let his gaze swivel around the room to ensure that they were still alone, "Not to mention that we would have never been able to win against the Klingons, weakened as we were."

"Hm," Leonard shrugged, "I don't know, I wouldn't let some stuck-up elves lead my people."

"We are nothing but puppets. We are not leading them in any way, we are advisors at best. I also mentioned that our medical expertise is far more advanced than that of Romulus. Their death rate was disturbingly high back then and still is in some places upon Romulus."

"So they are using you for the less violent things because it's not 'fun' and does not give them the satisfaction of receiving fame and whatever valuable crap they find on the planets they attack and plunder."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, "A crude way to describe it, but yes. They are hungry for power and instilled enough fear within the Quadrant's population to keep them from rebelling against the kingdom. Of course, the fear is directed at the Vulcan kingdom, but the Romulans do not seem to care what name they are given. It is their army that crowds the people of various planets together and threatens them until they do not even waste a thought upon rebelling against them. The knowledge that they are stronger than us, cunning enough to make the Quadrant think we Vulcans are the one authority gives them all the satisfaction they need."

"Well, I don't think that's true anymore," Leonard mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, considering how much crueler the laws became and how the humans are treated, I think that the council is being pressured into allowing more and more Romulan customs to slip into the Vulcan government," Leonard shrugged, frowning, "Something must have changed and I have a feeling it won't be long until another war breaks out."

"That would be rather illogical."

"Romulans, Spock. They are impulsive if they want to, they are cunning and cruel if needed. They probably got sick of not being acknowledged for their greatness in battle and decided to take matters into their own hands."

"But why not simply attack the Royal palace? Why wait? Given their military strength and knowledge, their chances of defeating us are in the 99 percentage."

Leonard furrowed his brows, "I don't know. Maybe one of them decided a quieter approach was best?"

Spock shook his head slowly, gaze lost in the contents of T'Pring's teacup. What were they planning?

* * *

><p><strong><em>Phew. Done. Oh, and, to everyone who is reading Secret World; I am still going to finish it, but I want to wrap up Between two Worlds first. Sorry!<em>**


	24. Chapter 23: Bad News

Heya, guys!

I'm sorry if I didn't answer some of your reviews, I had troubles with my email account and it deleted a lot of the messages I got regarding reviews. Sorry! I read them though and I want to thank everyone for leaving a review. :)

Also... I saw the new Star Trek on the 10th, just after my second to last test this month. Damn. **Damn**. So awesome.

So, it's two in the morning, I just finished this and I hope it's not as bad as I think it is. I tried looking for errors, please tell me if you find any!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 23: Bad News

It had been over three weeks. Three weeks that Jim spent in the, admittedly large, holding cell, staring at the wall or wandering through the mindscape.

It was driving him insane, not knowing what was happening outside. Spock's bonding ceremony was tomorrow evening and the link between them had grown too strong for Jim to build a barrier around. This compromised Spock's own ability to shield, leaving their mind link bare. As soon as T'Pring touched Spock's mind, she would find the golden thread, anchored in the very centre of his being.

Jim buried his face in his hands.

Somebody cleared their throat, prompting him to raise his head. Bones lifted his hand in a half-wave, smiling lopsidedly, "Hey, Jimbo."

"Bones," Jim sighed and stood, making his way to the energy field keeping him inside the cell, "What's happening out there?"

Bones shook his head and turned his head to the side, raising his voice, "Jim? Jim! My God, calm down!"

Frowning, Jim tried to determine whether Bones had gone insane or there was another prisoner named Jim in a cell nearby. The first option sounded a lot more likely.

"Hey! Somebody needs to deactivate the force field; he's having a panic attack!"

Oh. Jim finally caught onto what Bones was trying to do and slid to the ground. Curling up, he began to rock back and forth, panting hard and fast, becoming dizzy with the lack of oxygen. In the back of his head, he felt the mind link curl and twist with panic. Jim managed to send a calming, mental breath across it, soothing the fear on the other side of the thread.

The hum of the energy field vanished and a broad hand touched his shoulder and the sharp sting of a hypo spray made him flinch. Bones hushed him and Jim pretended to calm down. Looking up he found the doctor hovering above him, shielding him from the cell's entrance and the sight of the guards. A piece of paper landed in Jim's lap. Confused, Jim unfolded the paper.

_I gave you a sedative. We have twenty minutes before it starts to work. I'll move you to the bed and give you another piece of paper for you to read through._

Jim grumbled, inclining his head to indicate that he had understood.

Bones huffed and Jim suppressed an indignant squawk upon being lifted by the man. He stayed unmoving until Bones had placed him down upon the bed and covered his legs with the blanket.

Jim rolled onto his side, whispering , "Have you found a way to get me out?"

The doctor's face grew dark and Bones shook his head once more, "No. T'Pring is as stubborn as ever. Damn that pointy-eared witch."

Jim sighed, glancing past Bones' knee to see the guards moving away, reactivating the energy field. The doctor slid another folded piece of paper towards Jim.

_Spock and I researched some more. After the first Romulan War, the scientists of Vulcan discovered a dying star near Romulus. It's still not to the point where it would go supernova, but it'll happen. And when it does, it will destroy Romulus and the planets in the near vicinity. _

_The folder containing this information included a sealed and coded document. Spock managed to translate the gist of it. Apparently, a Vulcan scientist found a way that would prevent the supernova from happening by propelling a certain amount of Red Matter at the star. They used this knowledge not to be overrun by the Romulans, causing a questionable kind of truce between them. The Romulans agreed to help them if they promise to save their planet when the time came. In actuality, the Vulcan Empire should call itself the Romulan-Vulcan Empire, but Spock said the Romulans are men of war and not interested in ruling an Empire the correct way. I guess it works out for them. The Vulcans care for the boring stuff while they, legally, take over other planets. _

_Also, we found out there have been negotiations in regards to dissolve the Vulcan monarchy and for Vulcan to become a democratic state. At first, they have been going well, even Romulus was agreeable to it, even though it would have meant all the other planets would go free. The negotiations stopped two weeks before the rules and laws regarding slavery were lifted and the cruelty towards other species upped dramatically. _

_Spock believes that somebody is using the Red Matter to threaten the Romulans. The Romulans are not the driving force behind all this. Somebody else is and it's most likely that they are able to walk into the palace without anyone suspecting them. _

Jim lowered the paper, shaking his head and lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, "This... this is bad, Bones."

Bones nodded, "I'm aware, Jimbo. That's why I came here."

"But what can I do, Bones? I can't even prevent the bonding from happening. They'll find out about-." Jim shut his mouth and pointed at his head, "You know. I'm screwed one way or another. And so is Spock."

"We're trying to find a way out of this mess, Jim, but we don't have much time-"

"None at all, to be exact, the bonding ceremony is tomorrow evening."

Bones sighed, "I know. Dammit, Jim, I'm sorry."

Jim rubbed at his eyes, the lids becoming heavier by the minute, "Not your fault, Bones. It's alright. I'll just... we'll handle it. Somehow."

"If we could find out who's responsible-"

"Yeah, but we can't. Not in the time we have left," Jim yawned, "We need a miracle to get out of this mess."

Closing his eyes, Jim dragged the blanket over his shoulder. A warm hand stroked down his cheeks, rubbing the pad of a thumb over the thin skin below his eye. Sleep dragged him under, too quick for him to catch the last thing Bones said to him.

_The water was up to his hip, sloshing against his navel as he waded through the clear, shimmering liquid. The ground beneath his naked feet was covered in moss and grass, not yet drowned by the water that blanketed them. Trees grew high into the sky, creating a natural cathedral above him, green and glowing in the sunlight. _

_Spider webs spun themselves between within the trees, winding around the stems and branches, turning the leaves pale silver. _

_Wind blew, soft and soothing, through his hair and kissing his lashes as his eyes slid closed for a brief moment. _

_Jim placed his palms onto the flat surface of one of the rocks protruding from the water, climbing atop it, the cotton trousers soaked and dripping. He stood watching the forest around him turn into spun silver, the webs spreading down the tree trunks, dissolving as they touched the water. _

_His eyes roamed around, landing on the next rock. Jim jumped, stumbling on, leaping onto the next, making his way through the trees. _

_The clinking sound that had lead him back to Spock so many times was his guide, but the number of stones to jump onto dwindled the further he went. Finally, there were none left and Jim had to painstakingly make his way through the water, as quickly as he was able to, to avoid being trapped by the spider webs. _

_His heartbeat fluttered in his ears, quicker than a hummingbird's wings. Jim reached a spider web, tearing at the silver strands to step through and into the clearing beyond. _

_Their tree stood in the middle of it, still untouched and its pearls shining. _

_Jim breathed a sigh of relief, trudging on until he was able to step into the safety behind the tree's hanging branches. His hands touched the bark, watching it light up beneath his palm, the pearls clinking together, ringing out like millions of bells. The bark was warm against his skin, pulsating rhythmically. _

_Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned his forehead against the tree, whispering Spock's name against it, just barely catching the response, a soft sigh, nothing more than the wind's whisper. _

_The pearls around him began to ring louder, the sound jarring and frantic, nothing like the usual bell-like quality they brought along. _

_Jim covered his ears with both hands, hoping to dispel the unpleasant noise, pain searing up his spine, spreading, broad and wide and red. His mind fought against the maelstrom of sound threatening to drag him back. Back and away from the safety of the mindscape, drown him in the realisation that he would wake up back in the cell. _

_He resisted a few seconds longer, clinging to the dream-_

-then blinked his eyes open to the same ceiling he had been staring at for three long weeks.

"James."

The cool, calculated voice startled him into an upright position, his eyes focusing in on T'Pring's stiff pose, "Lady T'Pring."

She inclined her head and, to his surprise, lowered herself down onto her knees beside his bed, "James. I wish to apologise."

_What? _

"What?"

T'Pring looked back towards the energy field for a brief second and turned to address Jim once more, "I have done you wrong, James. I accused you of hurting Spock and yet it was I who poisoned him. I cannot ask you to forgive my behaviour but I wish to explain."

Jim stayed still, staring down at the Vulcan woman, "Explain? Explain why you almost murdered the crown prince? Yes, that is something I'd really love to know, Your Highness."

She placed her hand atop the bed's edge, "My father wishes to take over the throne. He was the one who asked me to add the poison to Spock's drink. I used you as a distraction to do so."

"Why are you telling me this? Why now?"

T'Pring's lips parted, a shaky, less than controlled breath escaping them, "I do not wish to marry Spock. I do not wish to become Queen."

"Are you serious? Why? You're not making sense and that's something a Vulcan should worry about. Then again... you don't feel worry, don't you?"

She blinked, slow and deliberate, "I believe you are well aware that we do feel, James," she leaned up, her voice dropping into a whisper as she reached out, tugging the Royal crest from its hiding place underneath his shirt, "Spock is not the Vulcan I love. And I do not intend to take him from you."

Jim grew still, his eyes staring into T'Pring's and for the first time since she arrived at the palace, he found a glimmer of emotion within their sombre depths. He huffed, "Should've known you'd find out."

"You are not particularly subtle, James. Neither of you."

"Alright," Jim grumbled, tucking the crest back into his shirt, "So what now?"

"I will release you from the cell and distract the guards. The ceremony will begin in thirty minutes. I need your help, Jim. My father will attempt to have the king assassinated. He already took over most of our government because he-"

"Stole the formula to the Red Matter problem," Jim finished, nodding, "I know. Alright, we have to hurry, how are we doing this?"

Twenty minutes later, Jim was dashing through the palace, cursing, "What a genius plan, taking you as hostage, fuck's sake, Vulcans and their not-very-logical logic!"

T'Pring lifted an eyebrow at him, not even out of breath when she spoke, "James, I do not believe there was another logical way. I could not have simply told the guards to let you go, correct?"

"But still! I just threatened a bunch of guards to shoot you with a phaser! That you smuggled into my cell! You are insane, lady! Insane!"

They slammed through the left ajar door to the large, marble hall where the ceremony would be held. King Sarek and his wife looked up from where they had been conversing with an ancient looking Vulcan, Amanda's eyes widening as Jim screeched to a halt in the doorway. T'Pring was torn from his side and the guards that had been chasing after them grabbed onto Jim's arms, dragging him backwards, "No! Wait, I have to-!"

"Release him," T'Pring sounded as composed as ever, but her voice drowned in the monotone chatter of the filled hall.

Jim struggled against the guard's hold, gritting his teeth and finally deciding to do the one thing that might gain the King's immediate attention.

Taking a sharp breath he shouted, "_The King is to be murdered today_!"

The hall went deathly silent.

King Sarek stepped from the podium at the other end of the hall, "Release him."

The guard's grip slackened and Jim tore free, walking closer towards the King. He came to a halt in front of King Sarek, swallowing thickly upon noticing Spock in the corner of the hall, dressed in regal black robes, a silver crown circling his head, contrasting sharply with his black hair. Jim could feel his gaze drilling into him, confusion, joy and fear flowing across the bond, but he had to ignore it for the time being, "Your Highness, I apologise for the debacle I have caused, but there was no other way. Lord Soren has stolen the Red Matter equation and has been using it to threaten the Romulans into stopping the negotiations regarding a democratic Vulcan. Lady T'Pring informed me that he will attempt to have you assassinated today, Your Highness."

King Sarek inclined his head, "And how has Lady T'Pring come to know about all this? Furthermore, why should we trust you? You were imprisoned for poisoning my son."

"Your Highness, if I may," T'Pring stepped forward to stand beside Jim, "It was I who poisoned your son. My father ordered me to do so. He wishes to take over the throne and is no way inclined to accept Vulcan turning into a democracy."

"Father," Spock had walked closer, coming to stand at Jim's side, "What Jim says about the Red Matter is true, Dr. McCoy and I found the information regarding the equation's disappearance yesterday evening. I was unable to inform you, due to your absence and my unwillingness to use an unsafe comm. link to call you."

Amanda covered her mouth with both of her hands, all pretence of being Vulcan gone.

The king's gaze swept through the hall, before focusing back onto Spock.

Jim swallowed, too relieved that T'Pring's plan had worked out to pay attention to the conversation any longer. He let his eyes wander, meeting T'Pring's gaze for a moment and offering her a tiny smile, which she accepted with a court nod and a twitch of the lips. She turned her head, towards one of the guards standing by the wall close to the door, the young Vulcan looking a little less keen on staying in his designated place than the others.

Suppressing a smile, Jim averted his eyes and frowned when he caught a movement to his far left.

He reacted on instinct, pushing both Spock and T'Pring aside, yelling out as he slammed against the king's front, causing them both to tumble to the ground. The sound of a phaser beam hitting the marble beside them echoed throughout the hall, a row of gasps and a few scream following the bang and crack of marble splintering apart.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, loud and deafening, his chest hurt, adrenaline still pumping through his veins, causing his legs to twitch and his toes to curl. His fingers were clutching the king's robe, the material thick and heavy, his stress addled brain distracted by the finely woven fabric.

Jim stayed curled up atop the king for a second longer, listening, waiting for another shot.

When nothing happened, he sat up. A masked person was being dragged away by three guards. King Sarek shifted into a sitting position beside him while Amanda dropped to her knees, her quivering hands reaching out to touch her husband's face, fingertips brushing across his cheeks and lips. No one seemed to take note of the open display of affection; everyone was still too winded by what had occurred.

Spock reached out, helping Jim to his feet, causing another bout of chatter when he did not let go of Jim's hand. However, Jim did not care of any of it at the moment. He had just broken out of the palace's holding cell, kidnapped the former to-be-Queen of Vulcan and saved the king from being murdered by a still nameless shooter.

But of course, nothing could be perfect.

"I see you have discovered my scheme," a cold voice from the door urged Jim to spin around on his heel, eyes widening when he found Lord Soren in the middle of the hall, T'Pring at his side, her face paler than usual and her arm trapped in her father's tight hold, a phaser pressed to the side of her head.

"Let her go," Jim hissed.

Lord Soren lifted an eyebrow, a very un-Vulcan smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. The Vulcan's mind was long lost in insanity. Jim should have seen it sooner. The manic glint had always been there, but Jim had never paid attention to it, too big had his dismay towards T'Pring been to acknowledge her father's behavioural faults, "You dare order me, human? Because you took what was rightfully my daughters?"

Jim's hand moved to cover the crest that had slid from his shirt when he had wrestled the king to the ground, "It was never hers. She doesn't want it in the first place. Not to mention that you made her poison her future bondmate before they were even bonded."

The Vulcan frowned, as if he was contemplating what Jim said, "The poison was not meant to kill the Prince. The dose would not have been lethal to a Vulcan," Lord Soren's eyes sharpened for a moment, "Of course... the Prince is not a true Vulcan. Is he not, _Amanda_?"

Spock made a step forward and Jim threw a hand out to stop the Prince from going any further, "You are surrounded, Lord Soren. There is no way out. Lower the phaser and you will be given a fair trial."

The Vulcan barked out a rough, snarling laugh, sending a shiver down Jim's spine, the noise unnatural to his ears, "A fair trial?"

The phaser was activated, humming as it readied itself to end a life. T'Pring's dark eyes met Jim's before they slid closed as her body relaxed with acceptance. Jim shook his head, frantic, "No, stop. What are you doing? That's your daughter!"

"You are right," Lord Soren glanced at T'Pring, almost like he was contemplating her worth. When he came to a conclusion, he moved the phaser to point at Spock, "This is much better. Hand over the throne and I will not kill your son, Sarek."

Jim felt Spock stiffen beside him at the exact moment the link pulled tight within his head. Spock's long fingers wrapped around his own, holding on tight and Jim squeezed back as hard as he could.

"One," Soren's face twisted into a grimace of a smile.

Jim saw the guard's moving in the back, a figure dashing forward.

"Two."

He shut his eyes.

"Three."

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><p>Yes, I know you all hate me now. I regret nothing!<p> 


	25. Chapter 24: I Belong To You

Hey guys!

I want to thank everyone who kept reading although it took me so long to finish this. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and I hope this chapter is not too... boring? I might do an epilogue, but I'm not sure, we'll see :)

Wings: Thank you for that very enthusiastic review, dear :) I appreciate it and I'm happy you liked the story!

Alright, not betaed, I did try to find my errors, please tell me if you find major ones :)

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Between two Worlds<strong>

Chapter 24: I Belong To You

Spock shut his eyes, muscles tense, holding on tight to Jim's warm hand. Shocked cries rang out through the hall, almost drowning out the sound of two phasers going off.

He expected the searing heat tearing through his chest, past his lower ribs, maybe a part of his lungs and through the muscle beating in his side. He expected Jim's hand to slip from his own, his mother to cry out in terror and the mind link to evaporate from his dying mind.

Instead, he was pushed to the ground by a heavy body, eyes snapping open at T'Pring's outcry. Too winded to register anything but the ceiling above him, he simply stared at the stone tiles above him for 8.9 seconds, before he managed to gather himself once again. He sat up, his saviour shifting, a quiet, barely audible groan filtering into Spock's ears. The mind brushing against his own was familiar, but the last time Spock had come into contact with it had been years ago, when he was still a child of eleven. And that particular meeting had not been a pleasant one.

_Stonn_.

A mere second after Spock's realisation, Stonn was lifted off him by a pair of guards and Spock was able to see the tear in the Vulcan's side. The flesh had been seared through, the edges blackened from where the phaser's heat had cauterised the deep wound. Spock followed Stonn's departure with his eyes for a moment, until T'Pring, who had fallen to her knees beside her dead father, stood and rushed after the guards.

"Spock," Jim's breathless voice startled him for a moment, a pair of warm hands cupping his face as the younger man settled between his knees, "Spock, are you alright?"

"I am well," Spock leaned into the touch, the panic ebbing from his mind, leaving him exhausted, "I wish to vacate the premises."

"You were almost shot a minute ago, Spock," Jim whispered, his voice trembling as the first tear of relief slid down his cheek.

"I am aware," taking a deep, calming breath, Spock willed his panic into a dark corner of his being, using Jim's shoulder to push himself to his feet.

Wrapping his hand around Jim's elbow, the pulled the man up and against his side, burying his nose in Jim's hair for a brief moment to take in the scent of sweat and faded shampoo. Jim pushed himself against him, shuddering, fingers curling into the fabric of Spock's shirt, twisting and straining the material to the point where Spock was able to hear the stitches creak.

"Mr. Kirk."

Spock's father's voice was quiet, almost gentle. Looking up, he found his mother clinging to his father's arm, eyes wide and her face pale. She did not speak, but when Spock met her gaze, Mother smiled, albeit it was a shaky expression she offered him. Jim shifted against him, but did not move away, "Your Majesty."

"While I am grateful for your help, I must ask you to explain what has occurred, for I and most of those within this hall are unable to comprehend the recent happenings."

Spock felt Jim nod, "Yes, Your Majesty. As I have said, T'Pring was the one who poisoned your son. I was merely her scapegoat. However, she, too, was unwilling to go through with the ceremony because of the simple fact that she had fallen for somebody else. Stonn, the Vulcan that saved Spock from being murdered minutes ago. Upon realising her mistake, she sympathised with me, for obvious reasons," Spock's lips quirked up ever so slightly at that, "and helped me escape. As for everything else...Spock and I have been trying to unearth the history of Vulcan, since most of it has been mysteriously dispersed of. While doing so, we stumbled upon a lot of inconsistencies and attempted to figure out what had truly happened. We got as far as to the disappearance of the Red Matter, but it was T'Pring who filled in the last puzzle piece by telling me of her father's insane plan."

King Sarek inclined his head, "I see... this, of course, changes matters."

Spock waited until his father gave them permission to depart, before he began to pull Jim towards the exit.

They made their way through the throng of people, evading various questions and finally escaping out into the garden.

The sun was already setting, tainting the scenery around them crimson. Spock led Jim towards the basket chairs on the terrace. In the end, exhaustion seemed to have claimed Jim, too, for the younger man settled down in one of the seats without further ado. Prompted by a yawn, Spock found himself convinced to follow Jim's example, squeezing himself into the space beside the blond.

When Spock woke, night had settled. The palace's lights cast the terrace in a warm, golden shine and through the open door he was able to hear people conversing. Lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, he sat up, careful not to startle Jim awake. However, Jim was already awake, eyes glittering in the light spilling out from the windows, "What happens now, Spock?"

"Father will discuss the situation with the council. After that, the various other planets that are part of the Vulcan Empire will send an ambassador and the next steps that need to be taken will be negotiated," Spock answered.

"What about us?"

Spock reached for Jim's hand, tangling their fingers intimately, "You will not be taken away from me, Jim."

The blond chuckled, "Possessive much?"

Instead of responding to Jim's quip, Spock leaned forward, pressing a human kiss to Jim's mouth. His eyes slid shut as the link between them flared open, bright and golden. For a brief moment, Jim did not respond. When he finally did, Spock was pleased at the blond's enthusiasm, granting the talented tongue entrance as soon as it prodded against Spock's lips.

Upon parting, Spock struggled to determine how much time had passed, giving up a mere 3.4 seconds later.

"J-Jim? Y-Your Hi...Highness?"

Pavel had approached their seat, face, for the first time, free of bruises, a small smile gracing the boy's lips. Jim scrambled to stand, taking Pavel's hands in his own, "Pav! Are you alright? I haven't seen you in so long-"

The boy giggled, "I-I am alright. L-Lady A-Amanda has... has made... made me her per-personal asss... assis...tant. Zat... zat is why I... I've not been around ssso often."

Jim laughed, tugging at the young boy's hands to pull him into a tight embrace, "Personal assistant? That's wonderful, Pav."

The boy nodded, looping his arms around Jim in return, before untangling himself once again, his expression serious when he addressed them, "Ze K-King vants y-you t-to meet h-him in hisss... his o-office."

Spock stood, "Very well. Thank you, Pavel."

Pavel bit his lip, smiling once again, "V-Velcome. I... I have... have to... Karu's vaiting f... for me," Spock shook his head, amused when the boy blushed and dashed away, vanishing through the terrace door.

"Well, that was interesting," Jim hooked his arm around Spock's, leaning into him with a sigh, "Let's go. There's no need to draw this out any longer."

"Indeed," Spock suppressed a sigh and made his way inside.

The guests were still present and had scattered throughout the palace. Ignoring the stares and whispers that followed their journey, Spock pulled Jim close to his side. It took them 6.8 minutes to reach Father's office. Spock untangled their arms, only to reach for Jim's hand once more. Pressing their palms together, Spock shut his eyes as the threat between their minds pulsated, heavy and nervous with Jim's anxiety.

"It will be alright," Spock whispered, leaning down until his lips brushed Jim's rounded ear.

"I hope so," Jim murmured and reached out, rapping his knuckles against the thick door.

"Enter."

Taking another deep breath, Spock tugged Jim's hand and opened the door. Father looked up from the documents he had been signing, nothing betraying his emotional state, as usual.

Spock could only imagine what Jim and he looked like. His own garments were wrinkled, the crown circling his head had been lost in the tousle back in the hall and one of the silver clasps of his robe was missing. Jim's hair was even more unruly than usual, he was not wearing shoes and the Royal Crest dangled from his neck, for the world to see.

Still, Spock held his head high and met his Father's gaze.

"Spock."

"Father."

"The Council has come to the decision that the Vulcan Empire will be dissolved. Tomorrow, the ambassadors of the planets that have been part of the kingdom will arrive at the palace to negotiate further proceedings. Stonn's surgery was completed approximately 19.5 minutes ago and has gone well. He will make a full recovery. Furthermore, if the Council approves, I will take the place as Vulcan's ambassador," Father stood from his seat and stepped around the desk to stand before them, hands clasped behind his straight back, "However, that is not what I wished to speak to you about."

Jim's grip tightened marginally and Spock returned the squeeze in an instant.

"Spock, I am assuming your affair with James has been going on for longer than a day?"

"Yes, Father. We have established an accidental link while working together and our relationship evolved from then on," Spock glanced at Jim, "Since the Vulcan Empire will not exist for much longer I believe the necessity to take T'Pring as my bondmate has been eliminated."

"Indeed," Father inclined his head, "An accidental link is something very rare, Spock. I hope you are aware of this?"

"I am."

"James?"

"Spock told me about it, Your Highness," Jim answered, voice quiet.

"I see."

Silence permeated the room for 8.9 seconds, before Father spoke once more, "T'Pau has agreed to lead the bonding ceremony for you should you decide to complete the bond. Please inform me beforehand, so your mother and I are able to prepare everything for you."

Spock opened his mouth, no sound escaping as he stared at his father.

For a moment, his brain was unable to comprehend his father's words, staggering as Spock willed it to understand their meaning. He was allowed to be with Jim. His father approved of them and they would be able to make their bond, their love, official.

A strangled squeak turned both Spock's and Father's to Jim. The blond flushed a deep shade of red at the sudden attention and ducked his head with a huff. Spock lifted an eyebrow, waiting for a moment then lifted his gaze to address his father, "Thank you."

"Thanking me is illogical, Spock. I am your father. All I wish is for you... to be happy."

Spock nodded, taken aback by his father's willingness to acknowledge the existence of emotion. He was used to logic, Father seldom let his control slip and when he did, it was only ever in front of Mother or Spock. Through the mind link, Spock was able to sense Jim's own surprise, coupled with the bright light of the blond's joy.

"You may go," Father graced them with another look, much softer and less controlled, before he returned to his seat behind the desk.

"That's all?" Jim blurted out and Spock would have sighed in exasperation, had he been human.

Father inclined his head, keeping his eyes on the papers in front of him, "Yes."

Spock squeezed Jim's hand once again to quell the young man's questions, turning around to make his way out of the office.

They retreated silently, shutting the door behind themselves.

For minutes they stood outside Father's study. In the end, it was Jim who broke the silence, "I can't believe this. Is it really so... easy? This shouldn't have been so easy. Why...?"

Spock cupped Jim's face between his palms, brushing his thumbs over the thin skin beneath those blue eyes, "Now that the empire is about to collapse, my mother will not have to hide herself anymore. Father would have been a hypocrite had he decided to keep us apart. Our journey to reach this point has not been easy in the slightest, Jim. I almost lost you."

"No, I almost lost you," Jim's warm fingers curled around Spock's wrists, "He was going to kill you, Spock. He was going to shoot you right before my eyes and I was paralysed. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't _save you_."

Spock tilted Jim's head up and slanted their lips together, not able to find words to soothe the younger man's troubled thoughts. Jim looped his arms around Spock's neck, leaning into the kiss, curving into Spock's chest. Fingers pushed into Spock's hair, mussing it even further, tugging until Spock broke the kiss to give a questioning hum.

"Your room," Jim gasped out, "Now."

They stumbled into Spock's bedroom barely two minutes later.

Jim's shirt was missing three buttons, his trousers clinging to his hipbones due to sheer luck. Spock latched onto Jim's exposed neckline, sucking dark marks into the vulnerable skin as he pushed the shorter man towards the bed. After divesting each other of their clothes, Spock slotted himself between Jim's legs, accepting the rough kiss the other pulled him into.

Jim's skin was almost hot against his own, their hips grinding together in the same quick, sloppy rhythm their tongues slid against each other. Reaching out, Spock snatched the lube from the nightstand, flicking it open as he pulled away to flip Jim onto his front. The younger man shifted onto his knees, a loud moan escaping him when Spock twisted his fingers into Jim.

Spurred by Jim's vocal encouragement, Spock did not take his time preparing the other, pulling his digits out to fist himself with the lube-slick hand, tossing the lubricant bottle away with the other. Spock guided the head of his erection towards the pink pucker, pushing inside, dragging a heavy, drawn-out groan from the man beneath him. They established a quick, desperate pace, the room filling with their coupled sounds and the bed's rhythmic creaking. Spock's fingers left bruises where they dug into Jim's flesh, palms pressing against Jim's jutting hipbones.

They did not last long, too strung up by today's events. Spock came with a groan, muffling the nose against Jim's shoulder as he dragged the man up and settled down, Jim cradled in the basket of his crossed legs. Like this, they rode out their orgasm, Spock mouthing at Jim's sweat-slicked skin, palms placed over the other man's heaving chest.

The room grew quiet as their breathing returned to a more sedate patter.

"We forgot to lock the door," Jim piped up after 4.8 minutes of silence.

Spock allowed himself a tiny smile, hidden against Jim's shoulder, "Did we?"

"Mhm. If anyone came to see what the entire racket was about, we probably scarred them for life."

"I find that I do not particularly care," Spock pressed a kiss to Jim's shoulder blade.

"Of course you don't," Jim shifted, wincing, "Alright, time for you to get out, Mister."

Spock glanced at the ceiling, sighing softly in tender exasperation, before he began to slide himself out of Jim with careful slowness. As soon as Jim was free of him, the younger man turned around, placing a soft kiss to the tip of Spock's nose, "'Glad you didn't die'-sex is the best."

"I believe that we should have had that particular kind of intercourse immediately after you realised I was alive and well, Jim."

The instant he uttered his statement, he regretted it upon seeing a familiar smirk bloom across Jim's full lips, "Oh, kinky. Are you saying we should have had sex in front of the guests, your former bride, the guards and in front of your parents?"

Spock closed his eyes, attempting to dispel the image, "Jim. That was unnecessary."

"Aw, I thought it was kind of funny."

"Jim, you believe that a man slipping on a Terran fruit peel is funny. I refuse to trust you definition of 'funny'," Spock touched his fingertips to the crest around Jim's neck.

It was warm and shimmered in the artificial light shining down from above. Jim's hand came up to cover Spock's, the tangling their fingers together, "Guess I don't need this anymore. I have you anyway."

Spock gave a quiet hum of agreement then looked up to meet Jim's eyes, "Would you wear it still?"

Jim smiled, "Sure. It's pretty and I've been wearing it for so long already."

Spock quirked his lips into an almost-smile, "Thank you. Now, I believe it would be prudent to take a shower, in case Leonard decides to visit."

"You mean, in case Bones comes barging in here, demanding an explanation as to why I pulled such a stupid and dramatic stunt. And to see if you are alright," Jim wiggled off the bed with a grin, "Come on then."

Spock stood, following Jim into the bathroom.

They showered as quickly as they were able to, considering that they both had trouble keeping their hands to themselves. Upon stepping out, Jim ventured towards the bathroom mirror, writing their names onto the fogged surface, before darting out into the bedroom again, with a snicker. Spock shook his head, attempting not to let himself be infected by Jim's giddiness as he walked towards the wardrobe, discarding the towel around his hips on the way there. He dressed and began to search his drawers for something that might fit Jim, presenting the shorter man with a pair of soft trousers and a shirt he had outgrown but for some reason never removed from his wardrobe.

"Thank you," Jim chirped.

"You are welcome," Spock began to gather up the clothes they had strewn across the room in their frantic venture towards the bed.

"You know, maybe we should go to Earth."

Spock looked up, lifting an eyebrow at Jim, "What do you mean?"

"I mean... like, I want to show you what Earth's like. I want you to see the forests and the ocean," Jim tugged the shirt over his head and wiggled his arms through the sleeves, "What do you think?"

"I believe we may be in need of a vacation," Spock acquiesced, "However, we do have matters to attend to here. My father needs my support, as does my mother."

Jim waved Spock off, "I know, I know. I meant... after."

Spock stepped closer to the bed, bending down as Jim tilted his head up for a kiss. It was slow and soft, nothing like the heated expressions of need from before. Jim's hands clasped the hem of Spock's shirt, not pulling, merely holding on this time. Tilting his head, Spock slid a hand into Jim's hair, fingers gliding through the damp strands as he pulled away to speak, "After."

Jim smiled, "Yeah."

_fin_

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><p>And that was it :)<p> 


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